Get Me Out of This Hell-hole! (DEAD)
by DeusExTranshuman
Summary: One does not simply fall into a new realm. They are often punted, head first, right into the deep end. This statement couldn't have been more true for me, especially when I woke up during orbital descent in a baby's body... I hate my life...
1. Fuck you, ROB!

" _ **DA FUCK!?**_ " Can the question as I sudden woke up within a small metal cylinder even as I looked on and saw what looked like the weirdest techno-colour I had ever seen in my entire life. However, what made it worse was the blatant disregard for the laws of reality I was forced to observe from within the tube, the sounds of colours, the sights of tastes, even the faint scent of what could only be described as emotions. I felt myself growing pale and could even see myself growing green in the face.

Reaching out with my hand, I touched the screen before me as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

"This has got to be a dream... This has got to be a dream..." I repeated multiple times as I tried to find out just what was going on, even as I tapped the sides of my container and pinched myself, feeling the pain... But failing to get up. My eyes widened in horror at that.

"Ok... So, not a dream..." I noted absently before I felt something, like an instinct coming into play as I suddenly glanced in a particular direction before going pale at what I saw. For outside the window of the cylinder, I saw a red-skinned creature, it's body looking like solidified flames while it looked like a classical picture of a devil, a pair of goat-like legs, horns, a long tong, fangs and an insane and demented look in its black eyes. The creature spared my pod but a glance before it floated onwards to something else, either not caring or not seeing me as the unreality before me shifted as I watched it tear open before the cylinder was dragged through. Through the tear, I saw a world below, barren and utterly dead, covered in rocks and with what looked like spires of metal sticking through. I blinked at that, wondering how my eyesight was so good as I blinked again at what I saw.

Those weren't spires, they were starships...

It only added to my troubled thoughts as I suddenly remembered that strange being I had seen before my face, if at all possible, grew paler still. I had finally realised where I was, muttering the name as I was pulled through what I knew to be a Warp rift.

"... Why did it have to be Warhammer...?" I whimpered slightly as I was yanked through the event horizon of the rift.

That was only the beginning of my problems.

 **XXX**

Ok, so, it appeared that I was in something of a pickle...

Basically, I was a Primarch.

In hindsight, it wasn't that difficult to see, what with me being a baby stuck in a massive test-tube that was yanked through the hell-realm known as the Warp, this was especially obvious after I had whacked my way out of the metal container I had been locked in, even leaving hand prints in the walls of it, but it left me with the question of just where the hell I was.

I, while being a fan of 40K lore, was not the most knowledgeable about the settings, I did not know the timeline and locations like the back of my hand, so I couldn't say one way or another where I was, merely that the place was a barren dust ball with a thin atmosphere, countless valleys and ravines, and what looked like the half buried hulls of countless ships sticking out from the ground. Some of those same ships were either gutting straight out of the ground, sterns pointing for the sky or were sticking out at odd angles. I had landed near a cliff edge and had the chance to look down only to falter as I saw how deep the valley _really_ was. Looking at it, I saw dozens more ships of different designs scattered through the cliff walls as I saw the darkness grow deeper the further I looked.

Hell, I could scarcely think that, even with my impressive eye sight, couldn't see the bottom of the massive crack in the planet's crust.

"Bloody fuck..." I muttered to myself, mentally wondering just how I was going to survive this bullshit.

 **XXX**

 _ **CRACK!**_

Well, turns out that surviving on this dust ball was actually a bit easier than I thought it would be. Three months in and I already had a decent system of things going for me, especially as I pulled open a door on a decidedly Human-looking ship, it's features making it rather clear that it was an early Imperium ship, probably lost on the way out of the solar system. Still, for what I needed, it served it's purpose rather well.

Pulling the door fully open, I smiled as I looked inside and saw the dozens of crates, each one was marked with the Aquila of the Imperium along with a complex barcode-like designation that was written on the side of every crate to compliment the stamp on the sides that designated the contents. Truthfully, I had found that, while I didn't actually _need_ food, nor did I truly feel hunger beyond an intellectual level, I still developed fastest after eating regularly. As a result of that, I had, with the help of Primarch Bullshit, grown to being almost 1.29 metres tall, well muscled and toned for a body my size and with strength that was well beyond what a being of my proportions should have. I had already scoured a fair bit of this ship for rations and food that was still good, finding little, but still looking as a result before something had happened that had lead me to this room.

While walking down the corridors of the ship, or climbing them, as it were, I felt something twitching at the back of my mind, it was an impulse to turn left at one junction followed by going straight at another before turning right at a third. Things had followed a similar line after that, eventually leading me to this room where I followed that same feeling until I found a few things of note. The first few things were a few crates of different types of weapons, clothing and a few pieces of equipment that I could see coming in handy. Finding a bag, I had quickly started filling it with a few samples of these tools before moving over to another crate filled with packaged MREs, I'll admit that such things would not be as appetizing as one would think, but it worked for me.

With this new sense guiding me, I started reaching in and finding the ones that I had the sneaking belief would still be good, despite being left to rot for who-knows how long. I even tried one to see how well preserved it was, taking a bit proved that it was still edible, I grimaced, if only just.

 _CLANK!_

I suddenly froze at that, hairs on the back of my neck suddenly standing on end as I got the distinct impression that I _really_ needed to get the hell out of dodge. I shoveled a few dozen more rations into the bag I had, a dozen other items from a few open crates before I sprinted out the room, the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching from another direction as I followed my guts and turned as I went to a junction before climbing up a wall and crawling into an exposed pipe in the ceiling, easily big enough for me to hide in as I heard it.

"Oi! 'dat 'da hell do ya fink 'dat iz?" I heard it, a tough, bass and highly accented voice that told me all I needed to know about the owners of the voice.

 _ **SMACK!**_

"Wot 'da hell do ya fink it iz zog head, it's a room full uv gud scrap! Now shut up an' start mov'n!" I heard another Ork shouting after a sound like two pieces of wood being smashed together reverborating through the hall. I dared to glance around the corner, out of the pipe I was hiding in as I noted the group of Orks moving around, a dozen Grots surrounding them and what looked like a few dozen Squids as well, most of the smaller creatures having started to wonder off in an attempt to find something interesting. I dared not hang around for that to happen, especially since I was, quite possibly, the only thing that could be counted as 'interesting' for a long way.

And I, personally, preferred to remain very much alive. With that in mind, I turned and started head down the pipe I was currently hiding in, that same feeling at the back of my mind working to guide me as I tried to find somewhere safe to make a base camp.

Preferably, one far, _far_ away from those damned Orks...

 **XXX**

... I'm just going to be honest and say it straight.

I'm a Psyker. A Primarch Psyker; a Psyker who happens to be a Primarch; A Primarch with the abilities of a Psyker...

Honestly, it explained a few of the abilities I had finally figured out in the last six months since I had encountered those damned Orks, though, I will admit that the ability itself made me rather nervous since Psykers didn't have the best track record, let alone a Primarch Psyker. Magus was the only example that sprang to mind, and he ended up being little more than the Changer of ways' butt boy due to his own ignorance and desperation. It was understandable, but it was something that I would have preferred not to see happen to myself, if only because I didn't want to get ass raped by Chaos...

Speaking of Chaos, I had, unfortunately, discovered that Orks were not the only things that infested this hell-hole of a world. With my new senses discovered, I had felt the tears in reality that had been present within the planet. Multiple Warp fissures that leaked a semi-constant stream of lesser demons of Chaos, most of which fizzled out moments after appearing, but a few of them managed to stick around long enough to get into a fight with a few of the nearby Ork settlements. The same went for the _other_ groups on the planet since I could feel the hunger of a Tyranid lurking within the dark recesses of the numerous hulks, along with what I guessed were Human Hybirds. Lastly, I felt something else... Something old, powerful and skilled in one way or another, but it was distant and seemingly blind to my presence, something I was grateful for since I didn't fancy my chances against an Eldar at this stage of things.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder how an Eldar had gotten trapped here, then again, I could imagine since this place was, truthfully, more of a planet sized space hulk than anything else. Regardless, it hardly mattered since I fully planned to stay the _hell_ away from the being, especially since I didn't know just how powerful that being was, especially with my own, very limited, skills at being a Psyker probably being very laughable, at best.

However, that wasn't the biggest discovery that I had made while experimenting with my powers...

And yes, I know! Experimenting with the Warp, yeah, not the smartest of ideas even at the _best_ of times, then again, I wanted to learn as much about this new ability and how best I could use it to twist the odds of survival in my favor... Especially with those Damned Orks running around looking for loot and practically dogging my steps since I started gathering more and more pieces of valuable tech.

Simply put, I seemed to have a thing for both Biomancy and a new field of Warpcraft I might have just created since I don't remember it from the 40K; Technomancy!

... Yeah, honestly surprised the hell out of me once I figured it out while looking over a Lasgun while trying to figure out how it worked. A spark had followed that as the weapon suddenly felt hot in my hands before flashes filled my mind, a running sequence of images that showed the weapon being made by the hands of Tech-adepts on Mars, shipped to a supply base in the Jovian sphere of the Sol system before it was sent onwards through the Warp. I suddenly knew how to take the thing apart and put it back together with inhuman speed and accuracy while knowing how to use it, but I had frowned as I had looked the weapon over. As my mind buzzed with these thoughts, a number of thoughts stood out to me, showing me designs created by my subconscious as they showed the weapons I could create just by tweaking one bit or another.

I could increase the size of the heat sinks, integrate a rotating power cell system with a thermal-couple linked to the power cells to recharge them while in use, increasing the ammo capacity as a result. Another idea told me that I could shorten the weapon, adding another barrel and linking them before setting them to fire in sequence, creating something like a twin-linked Lasgun before over powering each barrel, making it more like a twin-linked Hellgun. Another idea ended up looking like a triple-barreled Multi-Las with a generator connected to the motor that spun the barrels that would, in turn, be linked to a series of three power cell that would rotated to replace those that had been emptied. It would be a slow process to even refill one of them, but it would probably extend the ammo capacity for quite a while. Other ideas were present as well, but those were all over the place as I noted some of the designs seemed rather impractical, if only due to the context I was currently in since I was dealing with close-quarters, Orks and who-knew what else.

One design, in fact, caught my eye as I followed the line of thought to what I found. It was an interesting design, four barrels, each being as powerful as a Hellgun with the ability to either fire all at once or one at a time, a cooling system linked to a thermal couple that was used to recharge the loaded power cell while another two were also present in a hollowed out stock. The thing had a bulb puck design and looked tough enough to be used as a make shift club.

Frankly, I smiled as I saw it, I wanted it, rather badly at that. However, the only problem was that I simply didn't have the tools to make shit, which should have made it impossible for me to make anything.

Key word being 'should'.

It turns out that I was, accidentally, accessing my powers, a consequence of not properly focusing on the 'Here and Now'. By the time I had finished daydreaming, I looked at the weapon before me just in time to see the fireworks.

Metal plates, screws and wires all came loose as I watched all the pieces flying free before they started altering themselves, excess materials being drawn in from around me as I saw a few layers of metal being shaved from the floor along with another Lasgun being taken apart by invisible hands. Metal was rolled into shape, fused together so perfectly that it was like it had been forged on a molecular level before I watched a few spare power cells flying over before attaching themselves to the rapidly forming framework before metal plates, circuits and wires started filling in the metal skeleton before all coming together in a frame of black metal that was sealed shut on a molecular level.

I didn't move for a moment after it was finished, simply looking at the damned thing with unbelieving eyes before I picked it up with trembling hands that rapidly steadied themselves as I held the weapon. A flash of images followed as I suddenly knew how to use this new weapon, a thought and the weapon was ready as I heard the subtle hum of the capacitors charging for each barrel, getting ready to fire as a pre-battle feature to ensure that there was no delay for the first shots.

Still, given that my body was almost two metres tall by that point, I knew that I'd probably have to rebuild the weapon in the future to ensure that it would still fit me, but that only meant that I could jam more stuff into it, causing a grin of anticipation to spread across my face as I looked at the quad-barreled Lasgun in my hands once more.

"I could get used to this..." I muttered to myself as I looked over it, taking in the details before nodding to myself. It would serve me well.

I can honestly say that worked _really_ damned well, especially as I started moving more aggressively through the massive spacehulk-planet, encountering more Orks as I used my other-worldly sense to find more tech of interest and food.

Still, as for my Biomancy... Well...

 **XXX**

" _ **FUCK OFF AND DIE, ORK!**_ " I screamed as I ducked around another corner, dodging horribly inaccurate bullets that were probably as big as my pinkie, not really surprising, especially given the shear obsession that most Orks had with Dakka. I rolled my eyes as I slipped out of my cover for a second and fired a four-shot burst of laser-light, moving the Las-Talon, as I had taken to calling my weapon, as it cycled between each barrel, each shot being enough to burn through the head of an Ork before it kept on going and scorched whatever was behind that target. That usually resulted in at least a few more Orks losing sight in half their face or getting some nasty burns to the shoulders.

" _ **WAAAAAGGHHH!**_ "

Of course, it still didn't help when I had a tidal wave of the green fuckers bearing down on me as I pulled back further, slamming one hand into the metal walls as I pulled more metal and had it shaped, changed and chemical compounds rebalanced before I suddenly found myself with a few Grenades. I didn't even give a damn about their designs as I pocketed at least five of them before throwing the sixth over my shoulder as I ran around a corner and saw an open elevator shaft, I smiled at that as I sprinted and jumped, my hands moving to grab the rails as I gripped them and slide downwards.

I was lucky, as a moment later I felt a wave of heat spreading above me as I looked up, my mouth going a bit dry as I saw the molten metal burning through the walls of the shaft as I ran down. I glanced down at the grenades I had stuffed into a compartment on my belt, suddenly a lot more wary of the powerful weapons I had pulled into existence by instinct. I made a mental note to look them over, preferably, when I wasn't being chased by a shit-load of Orks.

And, as if the universe had heard me, I suddenly looked up just in time to see an Ork.

" _WAAAAAAaaaaggghhh!_ " It screamed as it crashed into my shoulder, the massive beast crashing into my with the force of a Baneblade as I lost my grip on the side of the shaft before the damned thing grabbed my left leg and pulled me down with it. I let it as I snarled once close enough, force it's arm to one side as it tried to get my head with its Choppa before I punched it in the face, tooth coming loose as it was dazed for a moment before I punched it again. I smiled minutely as I felt it's nose break on my fist before it shook it's head, regaining its senses before lashing out once more even as I putt four holes in its guts and head butt the damned thing.

"Goddammit!" I cursed loudly as the damned Ork managed to get his Choppa around and cut into my right shoulder, being stopped at my collar bone as I snarled, gritting teeth in pain and rage before grabbing the offending wrist and putting the barrels of my weapon to them. A flash of Laser-light later, and the fucker was roaring in pain as it suddenly found itself minus a hand, of course, I didn't give it a chance to counter attack, preferring to end a fight as quickly as I could. That, of course, resulted in me sticking the barrels of my gun down it's throat as it roared, I fired a two shotgun-like blasts down the throat of the beast even as it kept trying to punch me, I scowled deeply even as the creature took those hits and still kept living, parts of its spine sticking out of its back.

"Fuck it!" I shouted as I grabbed the collar to the Ork's clothing before head butting it once more before grabbing as much of its neck as I could, a sharp pull and twist.

I smiled as I heard the rather satisfying snap that followed even as I suddenly remembered that I was in free fall. Looking down, my eyes widened sharply as I saw the approaching roof of the elevator cart itself, I barely had enough time to put the Ork's body between myself and the cart before impact.

The impact was jarring and they resonated within my Transhuman bones, even resulting in the Choppa coming lose and dropping to the ground with a soundless _clank!_ Honestly, it was a relief in itself, the gagged edge of metal having been digging into my flesh, not a pleasant experience by any measure, but one that I'd have preferred to avoid in the future. Trying to stand was difficult, my muscles ached with every breath as I forced myself to remain calm before stumbling back to the metal surface below me.

And causing my bare skin to rub against the skin of the Ork corpse.

What followed was... _weird_. My mind opened as I suddenly saw the body of the Ork like I had with the original Lasgun I had, the thing spread out within my mind as I considered what I was looking at before throwing my reservations to the side; Living took priority over any reservations I might have had, not to mention that morality was, effectively, pointless within 40K, especially given how fucked up the place was.

Biomass flowed freely from the Ork body, like a viscous green goo, that climbed up my arm before moving towards my wounds as I felt my body already healing, but I felt that it was better to help speed the process up rather than simply wait. Glancing upwards, I knew that I only had so much time to get moving, the Orks probably having sent out multiple parties, and I really didn't feel like getting caught between multiple groups of barely friendly Orks that could happily start battering each other for no more reason than simply because they could.

Of course, as I felt the biomass flowing into my body, acting as a catalyst for my healing, felt something... _Shift_ , like one part of an infinite jigsaw puzzle had changed and grown all the more complex. Suddenly, my body felt better than ever, my muscles having grown themselves faster than expected while I felt like I was a lot tougher than a few moments ago.

Naturally, I didn't know what happened until I did a more in-depth investigation later on, but what I found was interesting.

My body was incredible, there was no other way that it could be said as I looked at what had changed before my jaw dropped in surprise. The long and short of it being that my body had integrated some aspects of the Ork gen-code that I had gained, copying aspects before rejecting others, such as the Ork inspired muscles and skeletal structure that would allow me to take a hell of a beating and still keep going. I hadn't actually gained all that much in terms of weight, either, which only meant that I could still move pretty damned fast.

With those thoughts in mind, I smirked.

This would certainly work in my favor...

 **XXX**


	2. The Start of Something New

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, I got bored and decided to do some writing, ended up coming up with this and decided to post it after checking it over. I'm glad that the initial response to this was so largely positive and I hope that continues. However, as a point of note, I just want to say that I will update my stories when I am able to, not to any kind of schedule.

Food for thought. Enjoy the chapter.

XXX

Two years. That is how long it had been since I had arrived on this massive junk-heap that I had, finally, named as Junkheap, funnily enough.

It had taken me almost all of that time to finish physically maturing until I reached the size I now stood at, and dear bloody hell, was I tall!

Standing up straight, I was easily about 2.6 metres tall, all muscle with a slim, yet deceptively powerful built that made me look on the thin side when one compared me to the size and breadth of other Primarchs. Still, I was happy with that I had, especially since it meant that I could still walk around the place easily enough. Of course, I still had the occasion hit to the head from doors that were too damned small, often when I was in a hurry to get the hell out of somewhere, usually while I was being chased by Orks. Usually, over this, I would have worn a set of loose fitting trousers and a shirt, along with a pair of boots, but I had to rethink those after bursting at least five pairs of the things while I was still growing, something I found annoying beyond belief, but it gave me reason to practice my skills with Technomancy.

Along with that, my skills with Biomancy were coming along well, mostly in the case of minor things to upgrade my muscles or give me a greater chance at survival. Sub-dermal armour made from plasteel or ceramite while my arms gained a layer of think scale-plates over them, covering my arms in organic armour made from layers of more ceramite that I had found in some suits of Carapace armour. After a while, I had expanded the scale-armor to cover most of my body, with the exception of my head, where I had reinforced the skull. Along with that, I had taken to using my gifts to implant electro-reactive fibres into my muscles, further augmenting my strength while not increasing my weight significantly.

Of course, even though I had turned my skin into a suit of Power armour, I still didn't stop there as I had gone and built myself a suit of armour, if only so that I wouldn't die horribly in this hell-forsaken place.

The armour was as tall as I was, built to take a beating and help me survive as best as I could, not really surprising since I also knew about the demons and that damned Eldar that was hiding down in the lower mantle of the spacehulk-planet. For that reason, I had done as best as I could with what I had on hand.

The armour itself as actually shaped in a similar manner to the Gundam Bael, minus the wing-thrusters and the two sensors sticking out the sides of the head, for the time being, and with the arms and legs of Gundam Barbatos Lupus Rex, both of which were from Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans. All of which was painted in black with grey accents, the optic cameras being a dull green while the whole thing had so many little tricks tucked away within it that it wasn't even funny.

The whole thing was armoured in Ceramite and plasteel armour plating, stuff that I mostly scrapped together from scavenged Carapace armour and moulded into the shape I wanted with my powers while also altering it slightly, reshaping the molecules of the alloy to give it better attributes. It was a slow process, but it helped increase my survivability by a fair bit, especially with some of those Damned Orks throwing around Plasma weapons that were being cobbled together by their Mek Boyz, mainly being used to fight each other.

Still, I may be a Primarch, but I had my doubts about being able to survive a Plasma blast to the face, another reason that I also integrated a few dozen Refractor Shield generators into my suit, if only to ensure that nothing came close to hurting me.

Of course, that wasn't the end of the suit's abilities. No, I had integrated a Las-Talon into each forearm along with rebuilt the Power Field generator of a power sword and implanted a miniature version into the claws and talons of my armour, even having the field is capable of being shaped by my mind through a Direct Neural Interface that I had cobbled together. Normally, the files only extended about a centimetre ahead of the various blades, but I could extend that to being up to a metre if I wanted to, it would waste power, but there was nothing more unexpected than a weapon that changes its length in the middle of combat. The finishing touches of my armour were simply ensuring that everything worked, mainly ensuring that the insane number of sensors, powered systems and power generators all worked as they were intended. Even ensuring the Gellar Field systems, Psi-jammers, and the Phase Iron layers were working as intended.

Frankly speaking, even half a year onwards, I still wonder how I knew how to make those last two ones, especially since I had never seen a physical example of them, unlike the massive Gellar Field generators of the numerous ships I had been on. Then again, I wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth, especially when my Psyker powers could still work through the things... Somehow...

XXX

A flicker drew my attention as I moved across the surface of Junkheap, rather happy with my new stead that I had built, especially since it ensured that I wouldn't have to constantly be travelling light and leaving stuff behind. Still, it also helped me in the fact that the massive machine was, effectively, a mobile home, workshop and drilling platform all in one, moving around on massive legs which allowed it to climb on nearly any surface. It was over thirty metres long, eight metres tall, ten metres wide and filled with as much tech and materials as I could manage.

Of course, I thought it was damned cool since I modelled the design after the Metal Devils from Horizon: Zero Dawn. I liked the design and I felt it was, surprisingly, a rather practical design for the situation I was in.

The multiple legs along it to move over the rough terrain that a wheeled or tracked vehicle would find trouble while also allowing it to climb over obstacles with ease, not to mention using it to climb up some Starships to find anything useful. The massive tendrils were also present, capable of being sheathed in a Power Field and tipped with Adamantium drilling teeth and crude Melta weapons let them dig through anything, I used those to follow feelings I had about useful items, often simply drilling straight to them and ignoring much of anything else, with the exception of useful materials and more food. Getting food, however, was rendered rather moot once I got my hands on a cloning system I had found within the lower levels of one ship or another, it let me clone the rations themselves, it still took time, and it still tasted bad, but it worked for me.

Still, Rexus, as I had named the massive machine, was far from vulnerable or defenceless. The armoured skin of the machine was at least half a metre of Ceramite and Adamantium laminate with a gel layer under that which would rapidly expand to fill breaches in the hull in case of a breach. The head of the machine, while carrying a dozen powerful sensors, also held a Laser Lance that I had miniaturised for my purposes, easily enough to give a fair number of enemies a thing to fear. Along the body, I had each flank covered by twenty turrets, ten on top and then on the bottom, and each of which were armed with a mixture of weapons.

A vast majority of these turrets were armed with twin-linked Las-cannons along with a single Multi-Las, but a few were also augmented with Accelerator Cannons and even a few Melta weapons. The pure Las turrets were present along the sides while the Melta-equipped turrets were near the front and back, those with Accelerator Cannons were placed closer to the back to allow them to take advantage of their ability to indirect fire.

So, yeah, I may have always chosen to go the route of overkill, but I preferred being safe to be dead.

XXX

"Hold," I commanded as the built-in voice recognition systems on Rexus caused the massive machine to stop as I let out a sigh. I leant forwards as scaled fingers pinched the bridge of my nose, that damned feeling, that twitch at the back of my mind was back, and it was driving me up the damned wall.

My Psyker abilities had advanced a hell of a long way since I had started using them, my abilities with Technomancy and Biomancy having improved greatly as well, as had my ability to find interesting things. Now, my senses extended out like a map with a dozen bright spots around me, the brighter and larger a specific spot was, the more interesting the find was likely to be. This mental map also showed me where the Daemons were along with that damned Eldar, to help me avoid them both, but I still grumbled at what I saw.

Most of the spots I had found near the surface were gone, picked clean by the Orks I could feel living throughout Junkheap. Their settlements seemed to form a rough barrier that went around the planet, massive gaps being present between each settlement, but it was still there. As I looked deeper, I saw dozens of treasure points, as I had taken to calling them, most of which were in tightly built clusters that were spread over a ten-kilometre area, but that was a hell of a lot better than what I normally saw. I grinned at that, mostly because it meant I might find something interesting that I could use against the Orks, the Daemons and that damned Eldar.

The simple fact of the matter was that I wanted those damned things gone, and one way or another, I was going to see it happen. My first thought was a robot army, but I threw that idea away, if only because I didn't want the Imperium coming down on my head when contact was made. I still hadn't figured out what to do since I didn't like the idea of having to control each, individual, robot in an army by myself, I considered making Cogitators and Servitors, but I lacked the methods of making those, and my gifts had yet to provide me with such an answer as, while they were slowly teaching me about any related tech I encountered, even that was a slow process.

Shaking my head, I looked back at the map, the dozen, untouched, treasure points being more than enough for me as I smiled.

"Dig." I commanded, a thought-command accompanying the verbal one as the Rexus instantly got to work, knowing where to go and what route to take as it followed my instructions.

The only thing that dampened my excitement was that it would take two weeks to get down that far...

XXX

In the darkness, a soft cyan light pulsed.

It felt something coming closer, slowly but surely as it dug through layers of rock and primitive metal alloys, bypassing what appeared to by the stagnated remnants of the Krorks as it drilled deeper towards it. It felt the power flowing from this new being, as strong as some of the higher ranking members of its kin, but distinctly different. There was power there, a power that was trying to mask itself, and doing a rather good job of it, but not enough that it couldn't feel this power. It was crude and raw, but there was power, a brutal power that seemed to slowly being shaped by its wielder into something much more refined.

Reaching out, the light pulsed once more, this time, with a greater intensity as it looked closer, trying to divine what this new being was capable of as it looked at its reflection in the Sea of Souls. The presence looked onwards, absently shocked at the state of the Immaterium before focusing on what it saw, looking closely at the being's own impressions with the Sea before reeling back in shock. One could learn a great many things by looking at the echo in the Sea of Souls, and what it saw was both interesting, surprising and shocking all at once. It recognised the Biomancy that this creature seemed to be skilled in, along with some kind of skill in divining, but failed to recognise another two aspects of its skills at wielding the energies of the Sea.

Again, a cyan light pulsed, this time with multiple smaller pulses of light that illuminated a small chamber, it was thoughtful at what it saw. This being was skilled in the use of some kind of skill that it and its Kin had never seen before, something completely new, or, at least, something that it could not recognise within its own experience. As the being grew closer, it decided to keep watching and probing, trying to learn more and hoping that this being would come for it, if only so that it might ask for its aid in returning to its Kin.

After all, they were still needed, the Old Ones still needed them to find the Scourge that was spreading across the Galaxy.

It would not sit this war out and watch as billions died to the Hungering Star Gods.

It would not!

XXX

Looking through the visual feed of the Rexus, I smirked as I watched the machine working, massive, fifteen metre long tendrils moving ahead of the massive machine, power fields working to rip materials apart while drills and Melta beams helped to remove some of the more persistent obstacles that were ahead of my mobile home. Very few ships carried things of interest, especially since I had already gathered a significant variety of numerous Imperial weapons and devices that I could have then used to make further devices of interest..

Still, even as I dug down towards the core of the planet, thoughts cycled through my mind as I considered just what to do about the aliens in this world. I knew that I didn't have the resources, currently, to deal with them all, but I considered a few other ideas as well. For the Orks, I considered a type of specially designed mono-task machine that would serve to purge the Orks and would hunt them down, killing any sign of Ork spores before moving onwards while also carrying out the process of mapping out the planet simply by walking around. For the Daemons, I considered a modified version of a Gellar Field generator mixed with a Psi-disruptor designed to make it difficult for Warp-entities to even function outside of the Warp, a sufficiently powerful one would have, probably, been enough to seal the Warp rift, but I didn't know that for sure if that would even work. Still, it was the best thing I could think of since the idea of going near a Warp Rift was about as appealing as being a patient of an Ork Pain Boy. Not exactly the most appealing of situations, to say the least. That still left a few of the minor Tyranid cult-colonies that seemed to be floating around inside this place, but they were a minor thing, at best, I had enough weapons that I was confident in taking them on, if only because very few things on an infantry scale could stand up to a Lance shot to the face.

Of course, that left the Eldar...

I honestly didn't know what to think about the Eldar, but I sure as shit wasn't going to be touching that Elf with a two kilometre long pole if I could help it, hell, I wouldn't touch that with a fucking Planet Killer if I could help it, if only because I wanted nothing to do with those crazy motherfuckers. Of course, I still knew next to nothing about the Eldar itself, but that was sheer fact it was an Eldar was enough for me to be weary.

Casting those thoughts from my mind, I turned back to the current situation, growing excited as I checked the position of the first, upcoming, Treasure point, noting that it was just beyond the next few metres of rock, behind layers of what I assumed was armor plating and further augmented by non-existent Void Shields, or some equivalent to it.

"Back," I commanded, my habit of using both verbal and Thought-commands was ensuring that my message to the massive machine was both heard and understood. I watched, rather happily, as the Rexus pulled back to reveal the first of my targets. A massive plate of dull grey armour plating, the sensors on the Rexus reporting that it was, at least, six metres deep and made from an alloy that seemed like some kind of hybrid of Adamantium and Ceramite. I frowned at that for a moment, mentally considering just how the hell I was going to get inside the ship before I smiled in understanding and satisfaction at coming up with an answer a moment later.

The Warp.

I could simply use my abilities as a Psyker to bend the metal out of the way. I wasn't confident on trying to teleport, mostly because I had no idea on how to teleport, but I figured that it would be another skill worth learning in the not-so-distant future. Still, I knew this would be a worthwhile endeavour, if only because it meant that I would get more shines.

Suddenly, I paused.

"Oh, fucking Christ... I've become one of those Bloody Magpies...!" I whispered to myself in a mixture of shocked amusement and horror before shaking my head to get those thoughts out of the way.

"Open hatch: Seal Hatch after my exit: Assume Guard position until my return," I stated clinically, thought-commands carrying through the air as I felt the machine around me respond with an acknowledgement as I turned in time to see the hatch open and the ramp located under the body of the Rexus open to reveal the world outside. I already had my helmet up and sealed, the atmosphere might have been barely breathable, but it was a near thing, not to mention the fact that, as you went deeper, the atmosphere only got more and more toxic. The reasons for this varied, but it mostly came down to Reactor leaks millennia old or the atmosphere of a given ship being too different. Then again, I knew of multiple places where Ork Spores were floating around in the air so thickly that you wouldn't even be able to breathe without swallowing a half dozen of the damned things.

A normal Human would die in moments.

For that reason, I am rather thankful that A, I am a Primarch; And B, that I am skilled at using Biomancy to modify myself, if only because I am not happy with merely 'Good enough' and preferred to always have the ability to survive and thrive.

How else am I expected to survive on Junkheap?

XXX

Getting out of the Rexus, I can't help but look on at the massive sheet of black metal before me, seeing it through the optics of my Raxus is one thing, that is for certain, seeing it with my own eyes is quite another as I look at the exposed metal behind the break in the rocks. Walking forwards, I can't help but admire the sheer amount of skill and industry that must have gone into this armour, my enhanced eyes behind unable to find so much as a single difference in texture beyond a smooth, glass-like surface that was made dull and non-reflective through some method I had yet to learn. I smiled as I approached the mass of armour before I finally stood within arms-reach of the surface, reaching out, I made contact with the ship...

And then it came.

Information surged through my mind, expanded upon as I looked, not at this particular piece of armour, but the entire vessel before me. Information still came for each individual piece of technology that was held within the massive ship. I learned of the armour, called Black Plate, along with a dozen other systems that were filled in behind the marvel of material science, not to mention a few dozen other things that showed just how different this single ship was when compared to other ships of the Imperium.

Still, if that wasn't enough, I got a pretty damned good view of the service record of this ship, and I then knew exactly what this ship was.

It was called the Indomitable, a veteran Dreadnought measuring over thirty kilometres long and having last seen action during the Iron War, the fight between Humanity and the Men of Iron. It had served throughout the entire conflict, constantly being upgraded, refitted and always kept in the fight as a symbol that you could not keep the Human race down, that Mankind would always find a way to stand tall and proud. Hell, the only reason that the ship was even in the core of this Spacehulk of a planet was due to the Warp Storm that kicked off near the end of the Iron War, happening while this ship was in transit and the crew had been unable to return to the materium fast enough. They had been boarded by Demons and slaughtered to a man...

I lowered my head, offering a moment of silence for the crew of this ship, a ship that had fought for over five centuries and never been taken out of the fight for more than six months before coming back swinging. It also said quite a bit about how it took over three years for those same Demons to finally kill every member of its crew, something that brought a smile to my face in a showing of just how determined Humans could be to live.

A moment of thought and I stepped back, the armour before me suddenly peeling back as I watched, wires shifting as I suddenly wasn't looking at a wall of armour, but an airlock that was made from the same armour, following the same design, as the rest of the ship. Another thought and a slight push of energy, and the airlock opened, cycling through as I stepped through it before stepping into the ship itself.

Inside, I looked around to a scene out of some kind of horror film. The massive corridors were filled with corpses, most of which were in various states of dismemberment while a fair amount of armoured suits were strung up and lying around, some having been impaled to the walls with metal pipes, most were cut to pieces while others looked like they had been savaged by a wild animal. The remains of the former crew of the ship lay messily across the ground, what damage that had been caused by the entombment of this ship had been sealed by those same rocks that now made it virtually impossible for this ship to leave this Spacehulk, at least, not without a major amount of assistance.

Moving onwards, I took care to mind my step, not wanting to crush the remains of the former crew, mostly because I fully planned to see those same remains gathered together and entombed properly within this ship if only to give these men and women a bit more dignity in death.

XXX

Six months went by in a flash, I had happily spent most of that time learning about the Indomitable, using my Post-cognition to learn how the different systems were made, how they worked and how to use them while also working to make the ship into something that I could call a home base, of sorts. The area around the ship itself was rather clear, admittedly, it was close to both the Eldar and the Warp rift, but I planned to deal with the latter soon enough while I planned to stay well clear of the former.

Still, I had already put what I had learned to good use.

The ship itself was massive, the armour, the weapons, the internal systems, everything was so much more advanced. It was kind of to be expected, however, what really caught my attention was the power armour and these soldiers using it. I had found dozens of their bodies lying around, more than a few thousand, at least, which I had used my Post-cognition on to learn more about before entombing them with the rest of the crew. They were, apparently, members of a semi-elite combat force that operated much like Marines had on ships, working to repel boarders along with functioning like a SpecOps unit under the command of the Void Navy. Compared to what I saw for the Ground-based army soldiers, these Marines, called Void Marines, were a step up, without a doubt.

Each of them were augmented heavily, some kind of Adamantium alloy coated their bones while their muscles were both augmented genetically and cybernetically, denser, more potent muscles for the former with threaded, semi-solid ceramic myomere fibres in the case of the latter. Every organ was hybridised and had at least three backup organs with at least three methods of regeneration being present within their bodies and further cybernetics being present. Two types of sub-dermal armour, multiple integrated weapons, triple redundant DNIs, no less than five wireless communication systems with another three systems that seemed to link each soldier, irrespective of their military branch, into one massive Psionic network, much like how the Orks had their Waaagh!

Honestly, all of those augments were impressive beyond belief, but that last thing was something that caught my attention. I had used my abilities to their limits to learn as much as I could about that very network, wanting to know what kind of abilities it had and if I could make use of it. The actual method that had been used had been a cybernetic implant located near the back of the head, and slightly to the right, but it was a rather interesting creation, created through the use of highly tuned psi-reactive materials and some kind of Quantum computer implant made from a pico-engineered processing crystal. It was impressive and utterly mind blowing. Yes, I could probably have replicated it using my Technomancy, but if I hadn't had that, then I'd be looking at millennia to actually understand the implants themselves, not to mention the dozens of other innovations scattered throughout the ship. Along with that, the medical bay had another few things of interest, sure, there were dozens of other items aboard the ship, but the stuff in the medical bay was something that was of the most interest to me.

A cloning chamber.

In truth, the cloning bay was used for when a crewman lost a limb or organ in combat and preferred not to go for the cybernetic option, it was slower to make, but only just, apparently, it had gotten to the point that, during the Iron War, it didn't matter which way a person went, they would have still been augmented enough to fight an Ork Nob in CQC and have a decent chance of winning against the damned things. And that was for those crewmen that weren't expected to fight on the front lines.

Regardless, that cloning chamber opened up a lot of possibilities for me, especially once I saw how it could be modified to make more than just new limbs or pieces of meat, unlike my previous system, which had apparently lacked some nebulous component for my abilities to make that leap. Still, that took me back to the reason that I wanted those damned things so much.

I wanted to build an army, or, at least, a starting point for something that would aid me to survive in this hellscape that was a universe. Looking at the improvements that I had already seen in the corpses of the Void Marines, not to mention the stuff I had created on my own and having been inspired by the Orks, I knew that I could put those designs into the clones and enhance them. Though, to call them clones would be a bit of a misnomer since I would be using the chambers in a similar manner to a Vitae Womb, an artificial womb, in other words. Still, I wasn't really in a big rush to see such things coming to fruition, mostly because I wanted to ensure I had the right understanding of things before I even attempted it.

XXX

"Hold still, you bastard!" I snarled as I ducked an overhead slash from the Ork, it missed, smacking into the wall behind me as I stepped forwards and decked the fucker with an uppercut that caused a few dozen teeth to come spilling out of the bastard's mouth. I saw him trying to open his mouth, going to scream, but I didn't let him as a set of claws wrapped in a Power Field slapped into his lower jaw, it wasn't there a moment later, especially when it became clear that it had been ripped off through sheer strength, aided by the Power field itself.

The Ork could only scream wordlessly at me, trying, and failing, to do anything of real significance as I moved in, taking control of things as I forced the Ork back, grabbing one arm before breaking it before doing the same with the other one. The Greenskin kept screaming in rage and hate and pain as I slammed an armoured foot into each kneecap in turn before booting the creature in the chest, causing it to fly back before my hand grabbed the damned thing by the throat. I held tight as a thought-command caused my gauntlet to retract away, showing my scaled hand as I pushed forwards, talons parting flesh as I reached out with my extra-dimensional senses and looked for what I knew was there.

I felt it, a field that surrounded this Ork and every other Ork on the Spacehulk-planet, I noted it as I looked closer, looking for more details as I committed those same details to memory along with a copy of the Ork's DNA for further investigation at a later time. I saw the field differing, changing as it warped reality without the need for the Warp, something I found useful as I continued looking for details, mainly how it was integrated into each Ork and what DNA markers were needed for it to work.

"Oi! Wot do yer fink yer're doing, 'umie?!" I suddenly heard, interrupting my work as I turned and reacted on instinct, Las-Talon already active as I opened fire on the source of that sound, the Las-bolts impacted my target and burned neat holes through the Ork's head and neck. However, it seemed that my chances at stealth were, effectively, over as I saw more than one Ork snarling at me.

"Da git kilt keny?!"

"Kill da git!"

"WAAAGH!"

I didn't bother offering a curse at being found out, merely levelling my left forearm at the advancing mob before opening fire with streaks of Las-bolts while my right arm slammed into the metal walls of the ship I was currently in. Information surged into my mind at that, even as I pushed it to one side before getting straight to work, Warp energy surging as metal was deformed, reforged and twisted to my desire, within moments, a force of combat robots stood before me, looking vaguely Humanoid in form with no head save for a slight bump between their shoulders. Their arms ended in a pair of mantis-like Power blades while each shoulder carried simplistic Helical Railgun that spat out projectiles at high velocities. Fifteen of these black armoured machines quickly appeared before me, a distraction as I gave them simplistic programming to attack the Orks as I turned from the battle, firing as I did so even as the flooring below me twisted out of the way, rapidly forming into a slide that would get me to safety.

Jumping down the slide, I got off a few snapshots even as bullets and energy bolts slammed ineffectively against my shields. I paid them no real attention as I sealed the top of the slide behind me, filling it with traps before I made my exit, the hull of the wreck I was at parting ahead of me as I appeared on a flat section of rock as the talons around my feet locked into place. Gravity, unless you were near the core of this Spacehulk-planet, was rather optional as it barely worked within the Spacehulks themselves, only the massive size of Junkheap even allowed a gravity well to form, and it was rather weak.

Moving as swiftly as I could, I brought up my mental map of the area, my Psyker skills allowing it to be viewed in real time as I saw the tide of green surging through the ship I had just left, no doubt wanting their revenge for my attack as I saw the last of the combat robots fall. I frowned at that, making a note to come up with some simple, yet efficient combat robots to use as distractions in the future, preferably ones that will last longer than 36 seconds. Already, I can hear the Orkish Warcry screaming after me as I run, hearing the footsteps of the mob as I grimace slightly at the path ahead of me.

It was a single rock bridge ahead of me, narrow and looks like it would break if sufficient force was placed upon it, not something that I would have used, but I was out of options due to a distinct lack of materials nearby. Not to mention that, outside of Technomancy and Biomancy, I was still working to even master the basics of other skills such as Telepathy, Telekinesis and Pyromancy, something that I made another note to look into in the future as I strengthened my resolve, checking my mental walls as I moved as fast as I could, augmenting my body further as my leg muscles were enlarged. It was a short-term change since I knew that the changes would give me a burst of speed, but it would burn the muscles out in short order if used over a long duration.

Still, as I looked behind me to see the Greentide of Orks, I smiled somewhat bitterly, it didn't matter either way since I would either live, and change them back as soon as possible, or die, and it would become a moot point in its entirety.

I didn't even bother turning to fire upon the bastards, willing the power of the Warp into my armour, I caused it to change. In my backpack, I usually carried spare parts and raw materials in case of emergencies, and in my mind, this certainly counted as armor plating shifted away to give rise to a turret that gutted out of my back, towering over my head and armed with a twin-linked Multi-Las that immediately started spraying down the mob of Orks with abandon as they tried firing back. Through the optics of the turret, I saw many of them, Flashgitz probably, aiming Snazzguns at me that hissed with everything from oversized bullets as big as a Human's head, blobs of Plasma and even Shotgun-like blasts of laser light. Most of these things missed me entirely as I kept moving, staying ahead of the mob as the distance between us grew further with every step I took, but still, some of the shots found their targets as I felt my Shields suffering from each impact as I grimaced once more, pushing myself further as I tried to make it across the bridge of stone before the Orks. Reaching for my belt, I pulled out one of the same types of Grenades I had first made when I had discovered my Biomancy, a high-powered Plasma-Fusion Grenade that would work quite well to destroy the anchoring point for the bridge, hopefully dropping the damned beasts down the hole below us to die. I fused two of them together, added a strip of electro-adhesive material and a timer with a five-second countdown, it would have given me a chance to escape the blast radius, if only just.

Of course, things didn't turn out that way due to the old saying: Man plans; God laughs.

One of the Green Bastards behind me pulled out a Rock-it Launcher and took aim, the rocket itself missed me as I took a step to the side, it's flight path virtually impossible to predict. Which is why it was an even bigger surprise when the damned thing looped around and smashed into a stone bridge, blowing up mere metres ahead of me as I feel my eyes widen in horror and surprise.

That was the only thing I was able to do before the I heard the sound of rock breaking, snapping under the weight of myself and a few dozen Orks, not to mention that Gravity was finally working on the damned thing as I felt the platform shake and shudder. The Orks didn't give it much thought, some of them stumbling and pausing, looking around questioningly, before they saw me ones more before they continued onwards, to the nearest target for their rage. I didn't bother looking around, picking up speed once more as I ground my teeth together in pain and annoyance.

"Make it, make it, make it make it, make it. Make it. Make it. Make it. Make it!" I muttered under my breath as I raced towards the other side of the bridge, safety practically being dangled in front of my face as I grit my teeth once more, the rock under my feet starting to tip as I tried picking up speed and ran for the edge.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the Gods really were laughing at me today.

Even as I jumped for the edge, my hands came short of reaching the edge, the overarching platform of stone having been undercut and I dived straight into that undercut, causing me to fall into the darkness below all the same. I felt like screaming my rage at the universe, sobbing about the unfairness of it, even just declaring the Murphy was the biggest jackass in all of the existence and deserved a good kick in the ass for it, but I did none of those.

Instead, I flipped myself over in midair, allowing me to see the approaching darkness below me.

Even as I heard the screams of a dozen Orks above me.

XXX

Well, I hope you enjoyed that and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	3. Rock bottom

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, I got back into doing some writing. I'll admit that I might have gotten a bit carried away with this chapter because it is one _hell_ of a long one. However, I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did while I wrote it.

As for some of the questions in the reviews: First of all, I haven't mentioned any STC designs for the simple reason that most of the tech he has picked up could be called STC technology. Along with that, the Tyranids were, actually, around well before it became know they were a species, the Imperium just figured the Genestealers were a race of Spacehulk-hopping Xenos and left it at that.

There you have it, hope you enjoy!

 **XXX**

 _ **Snap-Hiss!**_

And that was the last of the Orks, it actually said something that, in the course of falling down a fucking deep hole, that I had the time to shoot and kill over a few hundred Orks dead before I even reached the bottom of said hole. Now I was looking at around 349 corpses that are all falling at terminal velocity as I'm looking up at the damned things, then again, some are falling faster than others due to the Ork Waaagh! field that is one of the only non-Warp methods of getting Reality to fuck off and telling the laws of Physics to go to the corner, raise its ass then take one _hell_ of a butty call. The others included Necron Bullshit and Orange Magical Space Monkeys.

I roll my eyes at that those thoughts, mostly because they were rather accurate, all things considered, though, I could have done without the distraction as I jinked to the left, dodging another corpse that was falling a significant amount faster than I was, even though I had already reached terminal velocity. Spreading my limbs, I did my best to slow myself down as I twirled around, dodging more Ork corpses as I disassembled the Las turret on my back, returning it to component parts before reforming them into something else. A dozen designs float through my mind before one appears in the forefront, a simple, effective and reliable design for a cross between a Jetpack and a Grav-chute that I was hoping would ensure that I wasn't reduced to only so much meat on the ground. Flaring a bit of power, I felt the metal shift as I suddenly found myself with two thrusters mounted on pylons coming from my shoulders, angled backwards like short, stubby wings. I was half tempted to make them the same wings as those on Gundam Bael, but decided against it, I neither had the materials, nor the inclination, to do that at the moment, not to mention the fact that I didn't know what to expect down at the bottom of this damned hole.

Of course, that was when my armor suddenly alerted me to what was ahead, just as I cleared the last of the Ork corpses as I suddenly found myself approaching the ground, and fast!

"Shit!" I cursed vehemently as I rolled back, kicking my feet up as I turned, my new thrusters aiming downwards before firing them at full thrust. It worked, slowing down my speed, but my velocity was still uncomfortably high, I was still travelling at speeds that would kill me when I made contact with the rather solid looking ground and piles of green corpses.

Had I been a regular Human, that is.

Instead of being reduced to a smear of bone, blood and pulped organs, I landed with a mighty _thump_ , the ground shaking and cracking slightly under my feet as I landed, my feet and boots digging into the stone as a small crater formed around me. Landing in a crouch also helped in that regard, along with the changes I had made to my legs to ensure that I could outrun those Orks, though, it did mean that I was looking at a serious amount of torn ligaments and muscle anchors. Hell, my legs were practically torn in half inside my own skin, the only reason I was even able to force myself up to stand was thanks to the myomers and servos inside my armor, though, I did pause long enough to fix the damage that had been caused to my legs, if only to ensure that I wasn't slowed down by any form of injury.

Looking around as I stood up, I switched vision modes on my helmet, changing to a custom vision mode that used a complex mix of Lidar, echo-location, Thermal, Infrared, Ultraviolet and Motion sensors to build a picture of the world around me. It mostly came back to me as a dark blue coloured wireframe image that seemed to be just this side of freezing, honestly, I figured it would have probably been warmer to stand in the middle of the North Pole in the middle of Winter than it was to stand where I was.

Then again, I had my doubts about if someone would have made it down from the fall I had just survived. A quick check showed that I had been falling for the better part of a few minutes, considering the lesser amount of gravity, that, I assumed, meant that it would have taken me longer to reach terminal velocity. If you also included the fact that I had been falling for the better part of eight minutes, I was going to take a rough guess and say that I had been fallen about six hundred kilometres. I had travelled deeper with my Rexus, but that was besides the point.

"Hummm... Not bad." I muttered to myself as I glanced around, picking a direction and heading in that particular direction even as I checked my suit for damage before continuing onwards. Cautiously, I moved onwards, lifting both arms as I moved with Las-Talons at the ready as I moved, I followed what looked like a path in the rocks, well, not really a path, but it certainly wasn't a dead-end based on the mapping systems in my armor. I frowned slightly as I moved ahead, getting further down the path I had chosen as I turned a corner and saw a light in the distance.

That... Was not something you would expect about a thousand, or so, kilometres below the surface of a planet, let alone this piece of shit of a planet.

It was also rather unnerving as I felt a very cold chill running down my spine.

Feeling that, I got curious as I took a knee and zoomed in on the source of the light. I didn't see the source it, but I certainly saw what was hanging around it.

Daemons. A fucking shit ton of Daemons.

And it rapidly became apparent that, even at over five kilometres away, they could still see me rather well.

" **BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!** " Well... That answered the question of which aspect these Daemons came from.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire...

 **XXX**

My first instinct, when fasted with Daemons, mainly Bloodletters and a few other things, was to run like hell and not look back until either one of two things happened: Either the Demons finally ran out of steam and faded back to the Warp, or I finally figured out a way to kill the fucking things. I grimaced at that, I knew that outrunning a band of blood-crazed Demons was nearly impossible, especially this close to the Warp rift that I could now feel, having not bothered to check my senses as I was too busy thinking of getting back to my base came to notice anything.

A stupid mistake, one I should have already learned from given the dozens of close encounters I had had with the Orks.

Regardless, I didn't see any way to get out of this situation other than a single one, an option that I didn't particularly enjoy the prospect of, if only because I was still rather untested in terms of martial combat: Advance and seal the rift.

Taking a calming breath, I glanced around for raw materials, anything of use as, while I could transmute one material into another, I found it easier to work with stuff that was already prepared for me. However, in this case, it seemed that Murphy had decided to grant me some kind of boon to face the challenges ahead. Scattered along the path, jutting out of the walls, I saw dozens of Warship hulls, ancient Human designs from what I guessed was either the late stages of the Iron War, or early Imperial designs from the start of the Great Crusade. The Warp rift, if I had to guess, was on the remains of one such Imperial design, though, I could understand the logic in that, Iron War-era Human vessels all had their Hulls insulated with Phase Iron after the mass deployment of Vortex weapons for the first time, offering some measure of protection against the energies of the Warp, Daemons included, it seemed.

I smirked at that, it gave me more than a few options to work with. Rushing over to the closest Hull, I placed a hand on it before I got to work. Drawing Phase Iron from the hull, I started forming them into a shell around a Adamantium core from those same hulls, an explosive warhead was also added as I rapidly built what could only be considered as the unholy bastard child of a Storm Bolter and a Assault Bolter on steroids, firing 1.20 calibur bullets at, frankly, insane speeds as I mounted it on my gauntlet, having the grip in my hand even as the thing locked into place, a feeding mechanism connected to a massive cylinder on my back that contained my ammo, all five thousand shots worth of the stuff, as I moved my Las-Talons to a pair of shoulder mounted turrets, upgrading them so that each shot hit with the power of a Lascannon. In my off-hand, I decided to go for something more... _Direct_. A quick bit of work and I suddenly found myself carrying a pseudo-Thunder hammer with a head as big as the engine block of a small car and a haft almost two metres long, about 1.9 metres in total. The entire thing was almost as tall as I was, cracking with both a molecular disruption field and an idle Gravimetric impactor, this thing could overturn a tank while reducing at least half of said tank to pulp, it even had a series of Warp-reactive components in it to allow me to channel my power into it, technically making it a Force weapon.

And I could use it with one. _Damned_. _**Hand!**_

I grinned viciously inside my helmet, even as I finished off creating the last of my ammo, inserting another shell type every second shell, empty things that were filled with an explosive warhead inside of a shell of Warp-reactive material that I filled with my own energy. I figured that, if Big E's power was like liquid death to these fuckers, then what I did to them might have been like pouring molten brass down their throats while kicking them hard enough that they learn how to wear their asses as hats.

There was only one way to find out.

Marching forwards, I slowly advanced at first even as more armor and muscles were layered on to my armor, increasing my bulk, but serving to make it much easier to move even as I picked up speed. After a few steps, I was doing a very good imitation of Diesel-powered Freight train, only in Human form as I thundered across the cavern at a pace that most people would put somewhere on par with a racing car. The effect was only amplified as one considered that my two, or so, ton bulk was encased in another four tons of armor and weapons.

The first Daemon I ran into found that out the hard way as I shoulder cheeked the fucker, he ended up getting a Lascannon to the face as the physical force behind my strike reduced it to a paste of impossible organs and hissing blood. The blood splattered across my armor even as Gellar Fields kicked in and ensured the Warp stuff found no purchase. Spare materials were used to rapidly build another few, just to be safe, while I continued onwards, my mind turning its technical aspect towards a more immediate need.

Battle.

My mind, which had only been used to plot escape routes and analysis complex machines, suddenly kicked into overdrive as dozens of plans of attack suddenly sprang into view. I could envision each one, how they would work out, weighing the probabilities of success and the cost to gain ratios of each plan before I moved onwards. With my mind set, it was time for my body to begin.

My next step resulted in the death of no less than twelve more Daemons, my Hammer crashing down between them and the waves of energy sprang forth from my Hammer, battering all of them with enough force and energy to utterly crush them as my other arm went to work. My Bolt cannon sprang to life, lifting up as I pulled the trigger, sweeping my fire as I ensured that two bolts went into each target, the first being the Phase Iron Bolts, they ripped into the Immaterial substance of the Daemons, wounding them, taking limbs and forcing them to expend energy to try and regain them, weakening them further as the next Bolt came. The detonation of the Warp reactive materials, charged with my power and exploding right in the face of these weakened Daemons, worked especially well. The damage done to their bodies was immense, working to force them back to the Warp, screaming in a mixture of pain and outrage as I advanced.

Sweeps and slams of my Hammer reduced the rocky ground to a cratered surface as the unreal remains slowly faded back to the Warp while I advanced, my Las-Talon cannons also helping as they, themselves, cut a bloody swathe through the Daemons as they worked effectively. I made a mental note of that, mainly because it seemed that most weapons _could_ kill a Daemon, it was just a matter of applying enough power to the weapon to ensure that it happened.

My head jerked to the left, a Hellblade passing harmlessly over my shoulder as I used my cashe of spare materials to form a trio of Powered bayonets on the front of my Bolter cannon, slashing into the Daemon as I advanced, not glancing back as I cut into yet another Daemon that had gotten to close. Moving forwards, I fought silently as my mind worked away, thinking, planning and considering, the Daemons were the complete opposite at that, throwing themselves at me with reckless abandon, screaming for blood and skulls. I guessed the saying was true, Khorne really didn't give a damn where the blood and skulls came from, so long as they came, well, he was probably getting his fair share of the damned things right now.

Slowly, I advanced, my armor getting damaged then repaired, my weapons being damaged then repaired, my ammo running low before being replenished. Eventually, I stood within reach of the Warp rift, the massive tear in reality looking like a pink disco ball that had been flattened and stuck between two pylons of twisted, corrupted metal as I saw unnatural growths of flesh climbing along the floor. It hurt my eyes to even look at while I saw crawling script of a thousand colours climbing along the pylons. I detected a slight drain coming from the Psi-Jammers, telling me everything I needed to know as I picked up the pace of things, I exchanged my ability to remain untouched for speed, my armor took more hits, my weapons took more damage, but I was moving through the ever-flowing mob of Daemons much faster than I previously was.

As I approached, I lost half my Bolt cannon to a swipe from Bloodletter, I repaid that with a Hammer strike to the face before calling on what little material I had left to reconstruct my Bolt cannon, adding a Melta underneath the barrel which I then used to spray down a host of Furies and Flesh hounds that had just come diving out of the portal. My Las-Talons were still working, though I had to replace them multiple times by this point, but it was worth it.

Reaching the portal, I planted my Hammer as I set my turrets to handle the Daemons, they fired rapidly, killing Daemons almost as quickly as they came out of the damned thing. However, it wasn't quick enough, I knew, since I could see the Lesser Daemons being used as cannon fodder by something big. I paid it no mind, for the moment, as I worked to create another Gellar Field system, but, unlike my other ones, this one was different. It was in a cylinder about as big as a Melta bomb with a oversized projector, a timer and what looked like a large core of Warp-reactive materials.

In short, it was a Gellar Field Bomb. My understanding of the Gellar Fields being that they projected a field of reality around a ship while it was in the Warp, what I was doing was overpowering the damned thing with miniature, single use capacitor strong enough to have been in one of my grenades. I even attached my unused Dual Plasma-Fusion charge to the thing, a timer connected to it so that it would go off just seconds later. The entire thing was finished inside of a few moments as I looked back up and attached it to my waist, grabbing my Hammer as I prepared to move closer to plant the device.

I looked up just in time to see a car sized fist hit my right in the face.

It hurt like hell, but I managed. my armor cracked, multiple systems reported that they were fucked. A quick check told me that one of the three miniature Fusion power plants I was using was now fucked, having shut down, all the Psi-jammers were little more than scrap, most of my Shields were gone, and at least a full third of the armor plating on the front of my armor was now cracked and had fallen to the ground after I had landed. On the upside, I still had about three thousand rounds of Bolts, I still had my Hammer, the Gellar charge, my Combi-Bolt cannon/Melta, one of my Las-Talon cannons, and all sixteen of my Plasma-Fusion Grenades.

What? It pays to be prepared, especially in this hell hole...

After checking myself over, I looked up to see my attacker before my heart immediately decided to jump down the rapidly deepening hole of despair in my gut. Standing in front of the portal was a Bloodthirster, a massive Greater Daemon that easily stood over me, it still wasn't nearly as tall as the chamber, but the damned thing was standing over me like a champ with brass armor glinting in the light of the portal and a massive Axe in one hand. I frowned slightly as I stood back up, my previous despair gone as I only felt anger at the Daemon, soon that changed to an apathy even as I started walking towards the damned thing, as I did so, I couldn't help but hear a whisper in the back of my mind.

 _"You have fought well, Champion, but you will not survive. You are strong, but can be made stronger. Bend the knee, and swear yourself to the God of Blood, and he shall reward you plentifully for the great number of Skulls you have added to his chair and for the plentiful flow of blood. He shall-"_ The whispers were, thankfully, cut off as I rebuilt the Psi-Jammers from scrap, cutting off those whispers as I made yet another mental note to look into increasing the strength of my mental shields. I'd have to find more methods than simply will power alone, though, those could wait until _after_ I kicked this fucker's ass.

Advancing on the creature, I looked it straight in the eye as I uttered my next words.

"That... Was a cheap shot, you chicken-shit." I said in a flat, almost tranquil, tone of voice as I saw the think flinch back before it's fists tightened and it grit it's teeth in rage. I watched as it let out a roar that shook the entire chamber, causing loose rocks to fall from the ceiling. My guess? The damned thing knew I had just called it a coward, then again, that was kind of my goal as I looked at the thing for a moment.

And then all hell broke loose.

 **XXX**

I will happily admit that pissing off a Daemon of Khorne by calling it a coward was _probably_ not the best of ideas.

Frankly, I just ran out of shits to give as I ducked a horizontal swing of the damned things Axe before retaliating with a Melta blast to the face followed by a stream of Bolter shells that smashed into its nose. The unnatural flesh of the demon was pulled back, showing brass-like bones and razor sharp teeth previously hidden by lips, but the flesh of the Neverborn quickly healed it, it's essence being stronger than the Lesser Daemons, making it more capable of withstanding what I was throwing at it. It tried to stomp on me as I rushed it, moving under its feet as a Brass-clad hooves came down behind me, I spun around, my Hammer already prepared and my grip down at the end of the shaft.

The Hammer slammed into the ankle of the creature, the resulting wave of destruction completely shattering the joint as I watched the creature wail in pain and rage before trying to turn to me, hoping to kill me as soon as possible, probably though as violent, painful and graphic a method as possible. Naturally, I didn't like that idea, so I jumped at the knee of its other leg, Hammer swinging already as it slammed into the knee with enough force to tear through the Neverborn flesh and separate the leg at the knee. I glanced back to see that the ankle had only been half regrown, but that didn't matter as I sprinted off the giant creature just as it collapsed to the ground, injured and in pain, this was now the most dangerous kind of animal, but it was one I could deal with.

Smirking to myself, I off loaded a few dozen more shells into the massive creature before sprinting passed it, a Melta lance hitting it in the face twice, burning out an eye and its nose while I marched back over to the portal. I didn't waste any time as I dropped the Gellar Charge and then started to run, setting the thing for a ten second countdown, mostly to get rid of the damned Neverborn as quickly as possible. Another reason for the countdown was because I was doubtful of whether or not I'd be able to survive the blast if I was at ground zero.

I preferred not to take the risks.

I sprinted away from the portal, offering a few parting shots at the Bloodthirster before diving behind the cover of a chunk of ship hull armor that had come loose.

And not a moment too soon, as while the Bloodthrister was trying to get up, the charge went off.

I felt what happened next in more ways than one; I felt the sudden storm within the Warp, the breach in reality suddenly snap shut as a bubble of reality suddenly extended outwards, enforcing the Laws of Reality as the unreality of the Warp was forced out, it was a rather nice thing to see as the Daemons suddenly found their entry way sealed shut in their faces, some even being caught in the Gellar blast, causing them to fizzle out of reality and force them back into the Warp. Many of the stragglers from my battle were taken out in that single moment, the occasional Fury with more Flesh hounds and even a Juggernauts that had, somehow, escaped getting a Hammer to the face. The Bloodthirster somehow managed to endure the blast, if only for a moment as I saw it's form waver slightly as I looked over my cover with a periscope-like camera that was recording these moments. I saw the Greater Daemon snarl at me as I smirked, the damned thing was pissed that I hadn't fought fairly? Well tough shit.

Then, as I saw the thing trying to stand, gripping it's Axe in an attempt to strike me before it died, the Plasma-Fusion charge went off.

Suddenly, a pair of miniature stars were born into the chamber as I felt the heat and expanding blast wave from the sudden creation before they expanded rapidly, melting everything in their path as I felt the heat growing closer and closer. My cover behind a slab of rock didn't work as well as I hoped, but that was fine, it's job was to offer me some minor protection from the blast wave along with make sure I don't take all of the heat from the blast. It worked, but I still ended up being thrown back into a pylon of stone that rose from the ground, the impact garring me as a few systems reported damage in my armor, I paid them little mind as I dropped to the ground. I landed on my knees, breathing heavily after the fact that I had just been fighting for what felt like hours, a quick check of my clock, matched to the day and night of this Spacehulk, told me that it had, in fact, been hours since I had started my marry chase with the Orks. I snarled at that, if only because this had been one hell of a long ass day.

Climbing back up from the ground, my legs were shaky as I planted one foot then the other, before standing tall to inspect the damage to both my suit and the surrounding area.

For my suit, plates of armor were melted from the heat along with some having been shattered, the layers having been cracked open to reveal the next layer of armor underneath. One section of my armor, near my left side of my lower torso, had actually been melted to expose three layers while the forth had only just held, though the fifth layer did report some excess heat having bleed through the armor. Most of my Shield generators had been melted from the energy they had tried to stop, only one out of ten Psi-Jammers were working and the massive ammo container on my back had been dented rather heavily, causing more than a few jams for ammo to the feed-belt. Then again, I figured that it hardly mattered since my Combi-Bolt cannon/Melta had been reduced to slag while I only had a single turret on my left shoulder remaining. And, to add to the long list of damages, the artificial muscle myomers had been damaged in a few different areas, resulting in a lesser load capacity for myself as I was forced to Finally, my helmet was cracked over one optic, said optic was melted and half the sensors on that side of the head were pretty much gone, forcing me to resort to backups until I got around to fixing the damned things.

Still, if my armor was in bad shape, then the cave itself was even worse.

The charge had utterly crippled the cave, more than a dozen cracks extended out from a massive hole in the ground by the edge of the wreck the portal had been built on, said hole went on to reveal that, yes, there was yet another massive drop below the cavern, one that only seemed to drop into further darkness. From the molten edge of the crater, I saw a dozen lines of fractures that looked to only be surface deep, not all the way through, something I was thankful for since my Transhuman mind happily informed me that, if those fractures had gone all the way through, then I would be looking at one hell of a long drop... Again. Sighing in relief as I let myself down, taking a seat as I took a breather, not that tired physically, but the day had been mentally exhausting.

Leaning against the stone pylon, I breathed in and out as I calmed myself down, drawing on my abilities to quickly fix my armor, cannibalizing the ammo storage unit on my back to rebuild and repair my systems, rebuilding my other Las-Talon cannon turret while also putting weapons back in the arms as I looked around and saw my Hammer resting under a small pile of rocks. Standing up, my armor repaired itself as plates flowed back into place and molten tears sealed themselves shut. My arms shifted as I rebuilt my left arm with a twin-linked Las-Talon while my right arm gained two weapons, a Melta gun and a retractable power blade, about as long as my forearm and mounted on the side with a three-edged blade.

"Glad that's fucking over with..." I mutter as I start moving, keeping an eye on my armor and my surroundings as systems slowly came back online, fixing themselves before returning to how they were before the colossal cluster fuck that I had just run through. Walking over to my Hammer, I picked it up without a thought.

That turned out to be a mistake.

Suddenly, I heard it. The cracking that echoed throughout the chamber, filling me with a mixture of despair and resignation as I slowly turned to look down at the ground below me, cracks having spread out so that one of them was directly below each foot.

"I hate you, Murphy." I said calmly aloud, not even bothering to consider the fact that I was talking to myself.

I didn't even consider it as I suddenly found myself in free fall once more, my only consolation being that I was no longer having to fight a mid-air battle with Orks as I fell deeper into Junkheap.

 **XXX**

Eight... Nine... Ten... Eleven... Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen... Sixteen... Seventeen...

Suddenly, my mental count of the minutes was brought to a halt as sensors in my armor kindly informed me that I was approaching the ground, or whatever I could consider as the 'ground' when one is inside a massive, semi-Zero-G environment. Directions could be rather easily confused, especially since up and down were rather relative, especially on the outer edges of the damned thing. Hell, I was pretty damned sure that I could have left the gravity well of Junkheap with a powerful enough jump, it was entirely possible since I could augment myself enough to pull that off.

Regardless, I pushed those thoughts to one side as I flipped over, my body straightening up and then activating my Grav-Shute/Jetpack hybrid built into my back as I suddenly came smashing to the ground. This time, however, my senses were open and I was looking around for anything, searching for any kind of danger as I didn't want to be caught out by any kind of sudden attack, especially after, literally, wandering into a Warp portal that lead straight to the realm of Brass. Personally, I'd rather not have been caught off guard like that again, but I had my doubts that the universe, or Murphy, would be nearly as accommodating to me, the former because it just likes shitting on people and the latter because he was a dick of legendary proportions.

Still, building a set of lights into the chest plate and helmet of my armor, allowing me to see things beyond the wire frame vision I had been using until this point, I looked around the cavern I had landed in with some apprehension, my Hammer in both hands as each turret on my shoulders were out and scanning for threats. I didn't feel like waiting for something to appear before me since I started walking.

Strangely enough, my Magpie radar was going off, pinging a particularly large Treasure point ahead of me as I tilted my head in confusion and surprise.

"That hadn't been there a second ago..." I muttered as I moved forwards to investigate, cautious steps and my eyes darting from shadow to shadow as I kept my vision spit with my eyes working well enough while my sensors were feeding me the other vision modes through my DNI. I saw nothing for the moment, but I didn't relax, doing constant system checks every step of the way as I scanned for threats, hell, even if nothing showed on any of the sensors, or even the Mk.2 Eyeballs, I _still_ would have remained on guard, if only because I felt like I was being watched.

The fact that the hairs on the back of my neck were sticking up without assistance said as much.

 **XXX**

It had to admit, the being that it had felt was a lot more capable than it had first realised. It had watched as being had been chased by the Orks before stumbling into the lair of those Warp Predators, unknown to it as it's memories contained nothing of the likeness of what this being had faced. Though, just because it had never faced these particular creatures, did not mean that this being had the same lack of experience, as it saw when the being had engaged. In moments, drawing upon both the Warp and spare materials, it had watched as it reconfigured it's armor and weapons for much heavier fighting, clad in materials designed to insulate against the powers of the Great Ocean while dozens of systems worked to ensure that the corrupting influence of these Warp Predators did not affect the being in either mind, body or soul. The systems themselves were rather... _Primitive_ , but they showed a rather impressive knack for innovation and combat-focused thinking as the armor had been repurposed within moments of entering the chamber. It had then watched it fight its way through the horde of Predators before emerging victorious, damaged, battered, but the victor none-the-less.

However, it seemed that this being had the most awful luck, if only because it seemed that it was not going to be getting a break any time this cycle, as discovered when the being had suddenly entered an uncontrolled decent into the depths of the massive collection of shipwrecks and rocks. It still tried to figure out how it had gotten to this place, it's last memories being of a great battle between itself and the Scourge as they fought a combined fleet of its Kin and the Old Ones. Something had happened, but even given the construction that had gone into the ship, it was nearly impossible to get the exact details, however, it was possible to learn that it had been asleep for a long time, a _very_ long time.

Little data was present beyond that, but it also meant that it had no idea of what awaited it outside the safety of its home, then again, it did not matter.

It was time to make contact.

 _"Greetings, Warrior. I wish to speak with you, please know that I mean you now harm."_

 **XXX**

 _"Greetings, Warrior. I wish to speak with you, please know that I mean you now harm."_

I jumped as I heard that voice whisper into the back of my mind, a female voice with a musical tone that seemed to be wrapped in silk and kindness. Naturally, I distrusted it on sheer principle since I spun around, looking for the source of that voice. A part of me already knew it was Telepathic in origin, but that still didn't stop me from looking as I cast myself into the Sea of Souls as my physical body looked around for any sign of the being speaking, who I guessed must have been that Eldar. Saying nothing, I continued looking around as I turned off the lights on my armor, they were no longer needed.

A moment later, I clicked my teeth in annoyance as I found nothing, mentally wondering just where the hell that Eldar signature had disappeared to when I wasn't looking. Of course, to add to things, I heard a chuckle sounding in my ear, making it feel as though someone was right behind me. Instincts took over as I spun around, my Melta already warmed up as it fired, a stream of focused-Fusion energy blasting one rock formation or another as I felt another chuckle, this one a bit more distant, but, surprisingly, not carrying an undertone of smug amusement, more an honest enjoyment of a good joke.

 _"Peace, Warrior, I do not come to harm you, merely to seek your aid in these trying times."_ I felt an eyebrow rise at that, still not believing a word of what I had just heard as I mentally considered increasing the power to my anti-Warp systems, but decided against it, it was a waste of resources since I already had ten Psi-Jammers working and was wrapped in a layer of Phase Iron. If this female Eldar could talk to me through all that, then I had my doubts that anything I did would even be able to stop her from reaching me.

"... You will have to forgive me, Eldar, but the idea of one of your kind seeking to have a 'peaceful' conversation with one of mine is as laughable as it is foolish. Cease this ruse and show yourself, or I will hunt you down." I replied simply, my tone flat and unaffected by the supposedly sweet tone of the being that was talking to me. I trusted an Eldar to only do one thing: To use me as a tool to complete their plans before discarding me, probably leaving me to die in some great threat of one kind or another. The only question that came to mind now was this: What threat was approaching that needed them to make contact with me. Within the Warp, I felt the Eldar seemingly recoil in surprise at the tone I spoke in, along with the words that came from my mouth. I paid them no attention as I continued looking for the source of the telepathy.

 _"What do you mean, Warrior? What has happened to my people that you would believe me to be without either personal honor or principles?"_ The voice asked, seemingly sad, confused and surprised as she was. I gave it no mind as I pushed onwards. As I picked up my pace, moving at a jog, I snarled as a dozen memories filled my mind, of Dark Eldar raiders upon a dozen freighters that lay around the surface layers of Junkheap, of Eldar Corsairs attacking military patrols and even Eldar Warhosts attacking a dozen heavy vessels just to ensure that they were unable to reach an important battlefield. Preventing those same men and women from being of use in a critical battle, slowing down the rate of advance beyond that world by decades.

"Do not play games with me, Farseer!" I snarled as I turned a corner, looking around as I listened to the ripples within the Warp as it remained silent. I felt the echoes of shock, horror, disgust, sadness and pity, though none but the last were directed at me, I felt offended slightly by those while I continued onwards.

 _"I am sorry for the things you must have experienced due to those Fools, Warrior, however, I must apologies for what I must do. Much seems to have changed, and I need to know where I shall stand with this."_ I was about to open my mouth, wanting to demand what the hell she was blathering about when she struck. Suddenly, I was thrown to the stone wall as my Hammer was wrenched out of my grip and my limbs pressed against the stone, it was not crushing, but it certainly was strong enough that I couldn't move a muscle as I tried to get back to the ground.

It had little effect.

 _"Forgive me, for this might become rather painful, Warrior, but I_ must _know what has happened to my Kin."_ The Eldar said before it came. It felt like a thousand molten needles ripping into my skull, tearing through my, admittedly weakened, mental barriers as though they weren't there before they started moving through my mind. I felt tendrils of cold ice drifting through my mind as I tried to force them out, failing miserably in my attempts as they kept searching for information. I felt apprehension, determination and hesitation from those tendrils, emotions that were leaking through from the Eldar as I absently wondered what that was about before the Eldar found what she was looking for. Suddenly, I was rewatching a few dozen memories as she looked through them with a mixture of surprise, horror, shock and growing hatred. These feelings only grew as she watched Eldar Warhosts and Corsairs butcher Human crews for their cargo, watched Dark Eldar Slaving raids upon the few passenger ships that wandered the Warp.

However, if she was pissed off at those, then what was coming through the connection when she saw the boarding actions of the Eldar before the birth of the Slaanesh only caused her to go nearly apocalyptic with rage. I'm talking levels where even Khorne would be telling her to take a fucking chill pill.

Eldar Raids back then, back during the Iron War, were fast, brutal butcheries of Humans as the Eldar laughed as they happily tortured the crew of these ships, slaughtered them like animals even as the Void Marines onboard tried to force them back and get the crew to safety. It rarely worked out since a single Void Marine didn't even have a hope in hell of matching up to a pre-Birth Eldar in a one on one fight, hell even an entire squad of ten against one Eldar warrior was a hell of a mismatch, usually only winning through sheer volume of fire.

 _"... So far... We were the brightest of the Old One's children... Yet to fall so far..."_ I heard in a whisper as I snarled through the pain.

"The Higher the podium, the greater the fall, _Witch_." I cursed her as I felt her attention turn to me, I felt acknowledgement, sadness, disgust and even what felt like remorse, that last one threw me for a loop as I had never thought Eldar were even capable of feeling that.

 _"There is more truth in that statement then you will ever know."_ I felt her turn her attention back to the memories for a moment, the image of an Eldar warrior using a whip to strangle a Human child while dangling her over a pack of war beasts. It was something that the Dark Eldar would have done on a good day, this one had done it because he was bored. _"This is not how things should have been. This... This decadence! How! How did they fall so far to their base desires and perverse pleasures to become like this!?"_

I grunted at that, not offering an answer as I still looked for a way out of my bonds, examining the strength that held me and looking for a weak point in the telekinetic field that held me against the wall. I found none, but that didn't stop me from trying even as I grit my teeth in frustration, even as a slight amusement came through the connection.

 _"You won't find a weak point in my technique, a millennia of practice fighting the Necrons has done me well in ensuring that my abilities are without equal, even among my Kin from that time before..._ This. _"_ She said as I suddenly stopped, a part of that suddenly clicking into place as my mind suddenly brought up accounts of stolen records during the Iron War, taken during counter raids against the Eldar to rescue what few Humans survived their _tender mercies_ for more than a week.

"The War in Heaven..." I muttered for a moment, thinking about it before pushing the records towards the Eldar. "Are you saying you are a veteran of the War in Heaven?" I asked, confusion followed as she seemed to look at the records, they were brief, with little in the way of a description, merely mentioning that it had happened and that it had been fought by the Eldar and Krorks on the side of the Old Ones, with the Necrons on the opposite side with the C'tan.

 _"Is that what it was being called? Then yes, I can say that I was active during that conflict and fought on the frontlines against the_ things _they had become... Humm... This document is not very detailed, merely stating that the war took place and who fought on either side. Do you have any others?"_ She asked as I glared at the presence within my mind.

"Why ask? It's not like your aren't already in my mind, capable of routing through it to your heart's content and read it like an open book." I spat with as much venom as I could muster, I felt a pressure on my neck increase as I felt the Eldar's anger.

 _"I would not have resorted to such measures had you been cooperative in the first place!"_ She screamed in my mind, causing pain to flare in my body as she triggered nerves and set them to agonizing for a moment. I took it with just a gritting of my teeth as I snarled back in turn.

"And you already saw what trusting Xenos has gotten my race, _Witch_ , do you truly believe that I would gladly allow one to enter my mind!? No! Instead, you forced your way into it, proving yourself little better than the Xenos of this era!" I growled at her before the feeling of pain let up, only sadness, despair and remorse remained as the Eldar pulled back, realising that she had committed the very act that she was despairing over by violating another's mind. A moment later, the field holding my body dropped as she pulled back, only maintaining the thinnest of connections to speak through as I hit the ground, I stumbled slightly as my nerves repaired themselves, having been burned out slightly by what she did.

 _"... I am sorry... It is just... This is too much! It feels like only last cycle that I was in a battle between my Kin and the Nercons, facing them in a fleet battle as I stood on the Command bridge of my vessel. This... This change is difficult to take in..."_ She said, sounding as though she was falling to despair.

"Sixty million years, by the best guess of my people before the Birth of the Forth." I stated, regaining her attention as she stopped dead upon hearing those words. "The War in Heaven, from what my people had learned, happened that long ago, what few records that were captured hinted at it being a long conflict, but they were vague and what translations that they could make were inaccurate, at best, due to the Eldar never bothering to say anything but curses and insults at us."

Slowly, I stood as I glanced up, feeling the Eldar moving through the Warp, only to see my Hammer floating before me, held within a telekinetic grip as I grabbed it, the grip disappearing moments later.

 _"... I see... The it seems that the people I fought for are truly gone, replaced with those stupid enough to follow the orders of the Farseers, those blind enough to isolate themselves on the Maiden Worlds, and those insane enough to continue their sixty million years of decadence... This... This was not the way it should have been! We were the children of the Old Ones, Tasked with defending the young against the Necrons and guiding them into the stars! Just... Just why!? How!?"_ I heard the Eldar raging through the connection as I frowned slightly, rather curious about what the differences were if she was this disgusted and angry at the changes, I would have thought that the Craftworld Eldar would have been the closest to being similar to the Pre-Fall Eldar, but it seemed I was wrong. The Eldar seemed to pick up on that thought, if her hollow chuckle was anything to go by.

 _"They are fools thinking they can restore that which they lost the right to long,_ long _ago. The Eldar Empire is dead, it has been for sixty million years and it will remain as such."_ She turned her attention back to me for a moment. _"If you wish to know the differences, then let me show you._ "

A moment later, the connection widened as memories came pouring through, scenes of massive cities of Wraithbone without compare, vessels of gleaming colours dancing in the void, of a united people standing as a candle in the darkness. I would admit, some of the things I saw were beautiful beyond compare, but others were battlefields without equal, even in the 41st millennia. I saw Necrons fighting the Eldar on plants across the Galaxy and even in the void of space, heavily armored Eldar warriors, even more heavily armored than the Aspect warriors of this era, even more heavily armored than some of their _tanks_ , stood against the advancing Necrons and fought. It was impressive to see, if only to show that the Eldar had fallen a lot further, and in more ways than one, than I had originally thought.

 _"... And now you see, Warrior, how total our fall really was..."_ The Eldar spoke with calm empathy as we both lapsed into silence for a moment, no longer was it as filled with tension, but it was not comfortable either. I stayed silent for a long time, not wishing to say the next words as I was too busy going over the new information in my mind, too interested in seeing the utter disparity between then and now. However, I was brought from my thoughts once more when the Eldar spoke.

" _... Warrior, I know that I have wronged you greatly with what I have done, even with my ignorance of the current state of this reality, but I know that can hardly make I can hardly make it up to you with words alone, I doubt any action I take will ever truly atone for such a thing, but I wish to try. For that reason, I would ask you for a boon?"_ She asked, surprising me as I thought about the request for a moment. I'll happily admit that I'm not the most xenophobic of people, I didn't particularly trust anyone due to this reality I'm in on general principles, but I've only really encountered the Orks and Daemons, both of which I've developed a rather distinct loathing for, but the Eldar were still rather nebulous since I had yet to encounter them beyond memories of ships they had attacked. My general opinion, thus far, of them was not to trust them and wait to be betrayed. However, this Eldar was a bit different, well, a lot different, then it's current kin.

"Ask. I make no promise of granting it." I said simply as I took a seat on a rock as I felt happiness radiate from the connection before she spoke once more.

 _"Thank you, Warrior. Then I ask you for this boon; Allow me to serve you as both warrior-servant and teacher to make up for my actions and I will do so to the best of my abilities."_ She said as I stopped at what she was asking, unsure of how to take this as I didn't understand the _why_ behind the request.

"Why ask me for such a thing? Why ask to be willingly enslaved to another for no other reason than your own actions?" I asked, growing more and more curious with each thing said. Sadness came through the bond a moment later, followed by acceptance of her fate.

 _"My people have fallen far, their mistakes are now mine as I am the last of the True Eldar, therefore it falls to me to make up for their failings, as is what is demanded by my duty, if only so that the name of Eldar is not forever tainted with shame, betrayal and sadistic pleasure... Please, allow me this single boon."_ She asked, sounding desperate as the feelings radiated through the connection. Honestly speaking, I would have thought she might commit suicide if I refused, then again, that was based on Human psychology, Eldar psychology might have been a bit different, especially since they felt emotions a lot deeper than Humans, not to mention the fact that I still knew very little about this Eldar beside impersonal memories about locations and events with no emotions attached. Sighing, I nodded once.

"Very well, I will grant you this boon." I said simply, sheer practicality winning over my reservations as I knew that having a teacher for my Psyker abilities would be of great use while having someone to aid me in battle would be even more useful, especially with the Orks. I felt happiness and gratitude surge through the connection, so much so that I flinched back from it since it was off the _damned_ chart levels of the emotion. Along with this, I felt a presence wrapping around me, almost like a hug, that smothered every muscles, every bone and every nerve in my body before it disappeared, like it took a step back.

Suddenly, my eyes went wide as I felt the Eldar's presence again, no longer hidden within the Warp as I turned around to see something that surprised me. For floating behind me was not an Eldar, but a Spirit Stone, glowing with cyan light while, around it, a ghostly, faded image of an Eldar remained.

The ghost showed itself to be female, standing tall, around 2.75 metres tall, a bit over my head as she wore heavy armor that, while thick, didn't take anything away from her curves and showed that she was, indeed, a woman. The armor itself looked like a thicker version of the stuff worn by the Striking Scorpions mixed with that of the Fire Dragons and Dark reapers, thick plates, stiffening spikes and dozens of pouches covering it while the helmet was nowhere to be seen. The only sigh of the helmet was the section of material that came up her neck and over the bottom of her lower jaw while her left shoulder plate was enlarged and covered most of her bicep, along with extending upwards to be able to cover her head with a narrow slit for her to see through, not to mention the three red jewels present on the black, grey and white armor. Looking up from the armor, I saw her face morphed into a beaming smile as she looked at me with gratitude and happiness. Her skin was a healthy cream colour with full lips, lacking any real imperfection yet staying out of the uncanny valley as large, emerald eyes took in details with a small, button nose between them. Her cheekbones were high, but not so much so that she gave off an air of cool superiority that the Eldar of the current era had, giving her features a softness one wouldn't expect to see on an Eldar, and would be more likely to see on a Human. Finally, her hair was a sheet of black with a single streak of bright red running through it on the left side of her fringe, all tied back into a ponytail that went down to the middle of her back.

The only reason I knew that was due to her own translucent nature, something that made it rather more difficult to understand since I thought that the Spirit Stones were a relatively new thing caused by the creation of the Eye of Terror. I cupped my chin through my helmet, lost in thought for a moment before being dragged back for the dozenth time by the voice of the Eldar spirit before me.

 _"I thank you for this boon, Warrior, and I shall carry out these new duties to the best of my abilities."_ She said, her mouth moving, but her voice only being heard within my mind as she bowed deeply. _"I am Taenera Maelara, The Last Autarch of the True Eldar Empire. Might I ask what the name of the one I shall serve is?"_

I stopped, frowning slightly at that thought. In the last two years, I had yet to actually come up with a name for myself, preferring to focus on more important things, such as survival and trying to come to terms with my new existence, trying to rationalize that which was impossible to rationalize before, finally failing, giving up and accepting that I was here. With a mental shrug, I turned towards the Eldar, who was looking at me with interest undisguised in her eyes.

"I thank you for this, Taenera Maelara. AS for who I am, my name is..."

 **XXX**

AN: CLIFFHANGER OF DOOM! Sorry, I couldn't resist! Anyway, hope you enjoyed that chapter, please review as feedback is always appreciated. Until next time!


	4. The End of an Ice Age

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, this is a _hell_ of a long chapter with a lot of stuff happening during it so. Now, normally, I'd answer any questions about the last chapter at this point, but that seems rather redundant as a few things should be answered during this chapter itself.

Enjoy!

 **XXX**

My meeting with Taenera had been a turning point, as it were. Down, deeper in the Spacehulk of Junkheap, I found new secrets, new treasures that I learned about with but a touch of the hand, learning the secrets of their construction and how they worked, how they had been operated and who they had been used to fight against. I learned the secrets of Wraithbone, the principles of the Eldar sciences and of what the Eldar would have truly been capable of had they not lost their way in their decadence and perverse pleasures. Taenera served as an example of that, showing me what the true might of the Eldar had looked like, what they fought like, and showing me why they had been able to stand on near equal footing with the Necrons throughout the War in Heaven.

Eldar Warriors had been clad in Wraithbone armor, hardened to a density stronger than Adamantium with softer layers underneath that worked to aid the user's movements, physical abilities and aiming of weapons. The Eldar Warriors themselves were often augmented to be stronger, tougher and faster by Biomancers of great skill and ability while they gained Psychic shields, placed within their souls, so that they didn't need to craft mental barriers and shields against Warp Predators. This also had the happy benefit of making them immune to some of the more destructive abilities of the Old Ones, things that ripped into reality and shifted the physics of it to such an extent that it caused the Necrons to break. Their minds shattering a dozen times from the Warp-induced sights before them, often leaving them as little more than shells carried on my programmed instructions.

Still, hearing it was rather interesting.

"So, if you were more than equally matched against the Necrons, then when did the Old Ones step in? When the C'tan started appearing on the battlefields, I assume?" I asked as I sat in the middle of a large room, it used to be filled with scrap metal and debris from the initial impact that had trapped the _Indomitable_ within Junkheap, but I had cleaned it up and made it my home. Three doors were present, one leading to my workshop and the Rexus hangar, another back into the ship and the third leading to a small apartment with all the creature comforts that I could want. Really, it was just a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and a living room that had a large collection of books and Data-slates, not to mention a holo-projector that had dozens of games and videos saved to it from countless ships I had visited. However, this room, hall really, was built with a simple purpose.

To let me practice my Psyker abilities.

 _"Partially. The Old Ones didn't abandon us to fighting the Necrons on our own, they helped in the regions that had the hardest fighting, usually in places with massed Immortals or other, heavier units that outnumbered us by a significant margin. Even one-on-one, an Eldar Warrior was little match for a Necron Warrior, mainly because their mechanical bodies gave them an endurance that we simply couldn't match, even when augmenting ourselves through the power of the Great Ocean."_ Taenera said, floating by my side as I focused on what was before me, ten small disk of metal that I was trying to keep in the air using nothing but telekinesis while making them dance in an intricate pattern. Honestly, I thought I was making a fair bit of progress since I met Taenera over a year ago, I could now effortlessly hold up multiple tons of material with but a thought, now, I was training my ability to multi-task by doing so with ten small weights while talking with Taenera, something that was a bit more difficult than most would believe.

Not bad for a trick I had been practicing for over a year since I had met the Eldar spirit.

"How did you deal with them? I mean, you'll have to forgive me, but I just don't see any of the current era of Eldar weapons doing much against the Necrons back when they were in their prime." I remarked as she raised an eyebrow before I sent a burst of thought along out connection, having been widened and deepened to become something of a familiar bond, as Taenera had described it, with her as the familiar. I'd admit that it was something that I was rather uncomfortable with, but Taenera had done it without my knowledge until it was too late to fix it, and I refused to simply kill her just because I didn't want the damned bond. Apparently, this was her way of showing that she was serious in serving me since I could command her to do just about anything through it.

Needless to say, I tried to refrain from doing just that, mostly because while I accepted that slavery was an everyday part of this universe, I refused to be yet another slaver in this Forsaken shit-hole of a universe. And I let Taenera know as well, resulting in a rant that went on for the better part of two hours, much to her amusement and happiness, the Last Autrach taking it as a sign that her actions had been justified.

 _"Ha! Yeah, these 'Shuriken Catapults' would have been next to useless against freshly forged Necrodermis, all it would have done was create small rips in the material that would have healed inside of the blink of an eye. No, we used Wraithbone shells consisting of Nano-shredders, they ripped the Necrodermis apart at the molecular level and made damned sure to make it impossible to heal by leaving excess Warp energy in the wounds."_ I couldn't help the raised eyebrow that followed that, curious as to what those were since I hadn't heard of them before. My curiosity must have been plain to see through the bond as I was suddenly bombarded with half a dozen memories of the weapon in question being used.

It looked like a cross between the Reaper Launcher and the Death Spinner, with the body of the former and the head of the latter, only without the two fins sticking out from the top and bottom of the barrel. I watched as memories played, showing dozens of fully armored Eldar Warriors carrying these weapons before unleashing them on an ill-prepared Necron Immortal. The initial effect wasn't that impressive, looking like someone had coated the front of the machine's chest with a white, shimmering paint, however, that soon changed as I watched, my physical eyes widening in surprise at what I saw. That 'paint' was rapidly eating through the armor of the Necron, destroying the Necrodermis and caving in the chest of the machine before it collapsed to the ground, utterly destroyed. Looking back over to Taenera, I couldn't mask my interest from the smirking Eldar.

"What was that?" I asked, curious of what I had seen as she smiled.

 _"A Nano-shredder in action. A weapon specifically designed to attack the Necrons, designed to injury and even kill them, regardless of their Living Metal bodies."_ She remarked as I turned more fully to the Spirit as she happily floated beside me, her legs crossed as she floated so that she might as well have been sitting on my shoulder.

"That still doesn't explain what it did to that Necron." I retorted flatly as she chuckled at that before nodding.

 _"Fair enough. The simplest way to put is that the initial shot is a hollow bullet, the inside filled with finely powdered Wraithbone with each grain of Wraithbone having been inscribed with a rather particular design. This design is used to store and use a small amount of Warp Energy that is then released upon impact. The grains keep that charge for ten seconds after impact, but no longer as they release the energy through their edges, usually with molecular disruption fields."_ Taenera stopped as she finished explaining things, but that hardly mattered to me as I slowly connected the dots.

"A molecular disruption field..." I muttered to myself before my eyes went wide, my head snapping to her as I sent the relevant information for confirmation. "Are you saying that a Nano-shredder basically shoots a cloud of miniature Power blades to rip a target to shreds?"

Taenera furrowed her brows slightly as she took the information in before she smiled, nodding happily in answer to my question. Suddenly, my mind was filled with the possibilities of such a weapon on the modern battlefields of this verse, just how dangerous it would be considering that the Necrons were far from being at their bests. Honestly, having a weapon of a similar nature making a comeback during the Great Crusade, or whenever I was, would have been a distinct advantage for any forces with said weapon.

So lost in thought, I jumped in surprise as I had stopped levitating the weights around me, causing them to come crashing to the floor with a _Bang_ , resulting in me jumping a good metre into the air from a seated position.

Needless to say, I both felt and heard Teanera's amusement at the event, it didn't sound too bad actually...

 **XXX**

Teleporting!

By all that was holy in this Godless Hell-hole, Teleporting was awesome!

It took over two years to figure out, five since I had landed on Junkheap, but it was _so_ worth it! No longer did I need to march through Ork infested territories to reach where I wanted to go, I could simply envision myself there and _Pop!_ I would appear there within the blink of an eye. This was further aided by the fact that Taenera had shown me had to cast the same Spirit Shield, as it was apparently called, over myself to prevent me from being either detected or attacked by the Neverborn within the Great Ocean. Yes, I could still be attacked if I attracted enough attention from the higher level Daemons, but I wasn't that stupid to try anything of that kind. The Spirit Shield made sure that such things, while possible to detect, gave off substantially less of a signature within the Warp than they should have.

Like I said, it was dead useful.

 _"So Marcus, what are we looking for this day?"_ Came the voice of my companion as she floated next to me, her Spirit Stone noticeably absent as I had long since discovered that, along with attaching herself to me via a Familiar bond, she had also anchored her soul to me, ensuring that, should I ever die, she would die with me. Her Spirit Stone, as a result, was noticeably empty and little more than a cracked paper weight as a result, one that I kept inside of an Adamantium safe layered with Phase Iron, Gellar Fields and Warp-reactive material charged with my abilities. Still, even as I remembered all that, I smiled slightly as I considered what she called me.

It hadn't taken much time, but I had chosen a name I quite liked, honestly, I had come up with it off the top of my head, an attempt to make a name of myself that, while I had my doubts it being as... _Weighted_ as the other Primarchs, it still felt right to me.

Marcus Grimm.

I could live with that name.

"I have no idea, Taenera, though I can honestly say that it is something big." I remarked as I gazed back into the Warp, seeing the Treasure point ahead of me as I kept a wary eye on my surroundings, long practice having made it so that I was more than willing to keep looking, watching and observing to ensure that nothing was trying to sneak up on me even as I kept a watchful eye on the Warp. It was a good habit to have, as I had found when it had worked to save my ass from more than one Ork patrol that almost turned into a full Waaagh!

 _"Hmmm... Maybe, but I have little doubt it must be something of great value if you are capable of feeling it from halfway around this planet. So, care to guess at the nature of your latest discovery, or would you prefer that I make a few guesses?"_ She offered with a beaming smile, I rolled my eyes at that, having long since discovered that Eldar, regardless of what era they came from, could and would be assholes of the highest order if they felt that the results would amuse them. I didn't bother answering that question, seeing the trap for what it was before continuing to move on as I saw Taenera floating along with her lips twisted into a pout, tears gathering near the corners of her eyes as I mentally shook my head.

"You need to work on your acting..." I deadpanned, the Autrach lost the pout and instant later before going into a mock huff, pretending to be annoyed at me not taking the bait. I physically shook my head in exasperation at that.

"We are getting closer, it should be just around this next corner." I stated as I glanced back into the Warp, my Magpie senses flickering as the light of the Treasure point was almost blinding in intensity. Turning a corner of the stone corridor, I came into a large chamber where I saw my prize on the other side of the cavern.

One could hardly blame me for stopping dead in surprise.

Across the cavern was a ship that had belonged to the Men of Iron. The entire wall was exposed armor plating of the hull, thick and virtually impregnable to anything that wasn't specially designed to deal with the damned things. Memories appeared in my mind as I ran through what I knew about the MoI ships, trying to identify this ship class as I walked closer, absently walking around any obstacles and simply jumping down any small cliffs before I'm right next to the massive vessel's hull. By that point, my mind had already recognized the vessel for what it was, remembering the Iron War and suddenly knowing what this thing was with a mixture of dread and awe, the former being the residue from the collective memories I have gathered.

It was a Decimation-class Assault Carrier.

Fifty kilometres long, ten kilometres tall and over twenty wide, these things were shaped like massive, floating rectangles of armored battle plate with sloped sides coming to sharpened edges along the middle of all sides, turret mounted guns covering every possible angle with no blind spots between firing arcs. These things were infamous for a number of reasons, one being that they often carried a surplus of World Ending weapons, another was that these things had enough hangars in them to carry hundreds of millions of Strike craft with frightening ease, not to mention enough machines to conquer and hold an entire solar system on their own. However, what truly made these things so feared was one thing and one thing alone.

Their fabrication facilities.

These massive ships were, effectively, mobile factories that could rip apart entire worlds to harvest even the smallest speck of dirt to use as fuel for the fire of the MoI War-machine. During the Iron War, dozens of these vessels had fallen on captured systems and utterly devoured them whole, leaving nothing but empty space behind them, even the stars were extinguished. In that respect, these things were even worse than the Tyranids, simply because they could replicate so fast and so effectively, with no restriction on what they could harvest for raw materials. Often times, in battle, these massive ships would be pumping out Strike craft just as quickly, if not faster, than they were being destroyed, meaning that extended battles against a MoI fleet with one of these things had to be as short as possible to prevent them from making full use of said advantage.

And yet... That was only the _tip_ of the iceberg, especially since those were just the early versions that had been created near the start of the Iron Wars, later models had been far, _far_ worse...

 _"What is that?"_ I was broken from my trance when I heard Taenera speak aloud to me, I shook my head before looking grimly at the mass of armor and metal, not taking my eyes away from it as I sent her the relevant information. A moment later, I heard her gasp in shock and horror, with no little amount of surprise mixed in with it.

 _"... These Men of Iron sound almost like some kind of unholy offspring of the Krork and the Necrons. Having the reproduction rate of the former and the technological advantage of the latter, relative to the time... Just how did your people beat these machines...?"_ Taenera asked, speaking her thoughts aloud as I nodded slightly to myself, it was understandable, if only due to the sheer immensity of things, especially after watching the memories of a star, and accompanying solar system, being eaten by a fleet of these things.

"Humanity didn't." I stated simply, dredging up the needed memories before letting them play out once more within my mind, a dozen battles and a dozen loses playing out from the perspective of their crews, retelling the grind that was being felt by Humanity against the Men of Iron. "Humanity could win, oh, they could win if they were fast enough, but the Men of Iron turned the Iron Wars into one of attrition, simply drowning Human defenders in wave after wave of mass-produced killing machines that, while individually weak, relative to a Power Armor-equipped and augmented soldier, came in swarms numbering in the millions. Slowly, Humanity was pushed back until they only had Sol, the cradle of Mankind, left. In those moments, they created one, final, weapon that they placed their hopes on: A Warp-based Ruin code."

 _"Warp-based? You mean some kind of computer virus that carried the energies of the Warp into a targeted computer system to completely destroy them?"_ Taenera asked, getting a nod from me as I walked closer to the hull of the machine.

"Yes. I assume that the Old Ones had created something similar during the War in Heaven?" I asked, getting a nod in turn.

 _"We called them Hollowers, they took whatever pieces of a soul remained within a Necron shell and drove them mad, infusing them with Warp energy and twisting their bodies until they couldn't function. Those that were still in working order was similarly useless as their processors were wiped clean of all programming."_ Taenera remarked as I lifted an eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you guys win the war? A single use of the Ruin Code was enough to win the Iron War and, due to their networks, it spread and killed all of the Iron Men. Were the Necrons different?" Taenera gave a bitter chuckle at that.

 _"Partially, but not in the ways that you might be thinking. Yes, they were networked together on some level, their Nodal command network, but that wasn't the difference. The difference was that the Necrons had much more experience manipulating the laws of the Matterium and the Immatterium. After the first dozen usages against them, they created the Null Matrixes and Gloom Prisms, both to prevent these weapons from affecting them again, and to defend against other usages of Warp energy."_ I nodded at that, understanding the process behind it: Weapons are created, used, then countered as the war progresses until they are eventually discarded when the enemy has become so effective at countering them as to make their continued usage impractical.

Moving forwards, I reached out and made to touch the hull, my abilities ready as I prepared for the surge of information that would come. The room was silent for a moment as I was about to make contact with the hull.

Only for the sound of rocks to come crashing down from the ceiling. Followed shortly by the sound of Greenskins.

"WAAAGH! Oi! yer git away from ma loot, 'umie! dis iz 'da loot uv Big Warboss Bonecrakka! kome on Boyz! Letz WAAAGH!" I heard as I turned around to see what had caused the sound. I can't really say I was surprised when I saw it, a massive drill of Ork construction, covered in red paint and made from shards of metal that were held together by little more than rope straps, duct tape and what looked like snot. I snarled behind my helmet as I looked at the Orks as they started coming off their Drill, swarming down the rock face or just dropping to the ground some fifteen metres below them before howling a warcry of sufficient volume to shake the entire chamber.

Some would have been intimidated, even terrified, of such a sight, more than willing to flee if given the chance.

I was, distinctly, unimpressed.

"I don't have time for this." I muttered to myself as I gave the first thought-command. Suddenly, the two turrets on my shoulders sprang to life, appearing from my back before they started to crack off shots at the approaching mass of Greenskins. Not even turning around, I slammed my hand into the hull of the Desolation Assault Carrier, feeling the surge of information as everything about it, it's entire timeline and information about every technology that made it up flooded my mind. I pushed it all to one side as I focused on the now. Well, not entirely, I took a moment to skim over the database of killing machines within the vessel, taking note of some of the designs before I smiled as I found one I quite liked. A moment later, I let my powers flow through me and into the ship itself, pulling raw materials away from the hull and reforming them into combat robots under my control.

I started moving before even the first of the machines were finished, my Hammer already in right hand as I snapped off dozens of Las-bolts with my left, letting my shield take the impacts of a dozen Ork weapons while I swiped out, a Power field sheathing my claws as I cut through a Grot that had tried to latch on to me. A swing of my Hammer, now named as the Foehammer, resulted in a swarm of Grots being reduced to paste as my Hammer kept going, slamming into the chest of another Ork Boy and reducing him to even more paste while a snap of my free arm removed the limbs of three more Orks, and a quartet of Las-bolts from my arm and the two turrets, each, killed another sixteen of the Greenskins. Reaching for my belt, I grabbed two grenades in my empty hand before pulling the pins from each with a minor application of telekinesis, throwing them even further with the help of the same power.

Barely a few seconds later, the Plasma-Fusion weapons exploded in a maelstrom of fire, heat and shockwaves as the Fusion reactor inside went critical, releasing Fusion-grade Plasma into the world, much more potent than the standard Plasma Grenades used by the Imperium. I smirked slightly as I saw the melted rock and the remains of the once imposing driller that had been reduced to melted slag, absently, I heard the cry of a Mekboy as he swore vengeance upon me. I didn't give him more than a passing glance before a Plasma beam shot through his chest.

I smirked, they were ready.

Glancing back over one shoulder even as I kept fighting, I saw the combat machines I had created standing tall as they started to wade into the swarm of soon-to-be-dead Orks. They stood almost as tall as a Space Marine, roughly three metres tall with massive, hulking bodies, and proportioned more like gorillas than Humans with massive arms that came down to their ankles, with equally big hands, small legs, wide chests and a head that was recessed between its massive shoulders with only a trio of red optics and no visible neck. These were Massacre-class War machines, technically classed as Golem-shaped siege engines designed to make small breaks in fortifications for more MoI forces to advance, they actually had rather impressive service records when it came to fighting Orks.

And I had built twenty of them.

"Advance. Exterminate." I commanded verbally while sending instructions through my DNI towards the machines, which responded immediately. As one, they started moving into the crowd of Greenskins, powerful arms swinging and attacking as they hit with the force of small tanks moving and significant speed. I almost chuckled when I saw one Ork be sent flying before impacting a wall, leaving a rather messy, and distinctly green, stain on the wall as others started deploying weapons. Mega-armored Nobz were countered by their heavy firepower in Plasma Beams and miniature Neutron Lasers, swarms of Grots and Snotlings were exterminated to the last by Plasma-based Flamers and Eradication Beams. Return fire was ignored with insulting ease as it bounced of Flare Shields, Automatic Shielding and their heavily armored bulk.

The Greentide smashed against my advancing Bulwark.

The Bulwark found them wanting.

From there, I couldn't even call this a battle any longer, more like a slaughter as the machines advanced, even as shields failed, they kept going, the Orks having only managed to take one of the machines down throughout the entire conflict as I slowly took a backseat and just watched, occasionally offering support by throwing a telekinetically-assisted rock at one Ork or another, but that hardly mattered.

"Yer fink yer kan smash me, yer zogg'n 'umie toyz? 'der ain't no wun 'dat kan smash Bonecrakka! WAAAGH!" I saw the leading Warboss, and what few Boyz he had left, finally chose to kill themselves as they attacked the rapidly approaching wall of metal. The Warboss was fully armored in Mega-armor, a Power Klaw in one hand with what looked like a triplet of Imperial Lascannons that had been 'kustomized' on the other hand, his followers were armed with Sluggas and Shootas, but they hardly mattered. The surrounding Boyz died in moments as I took control of the machines for a moment as an idea came to me, moving faster than one would expect for a machine with their bulk, they grabbed the Warboss as he jumped at the nearest machine. The facade of slow, lumbering giants was broken within an instant as two of them grabbed the Warboss by his arms and legs, leaving him unable to do much beyond rage at the unfairness of it all, shouting and howling.

I ignored it as I moved forwards.

Eventually, I got within arm's reach of the creature, clamping my hand down, around its mouth to silence it as my armor retracted to allow my scaled hand to make skin contact. I grinned inside my armor as that happened, the Ork still trying to rage against me as I looked at it for a moment before I begun. Warp energy surged as I made the connection between my mind and this Ork's biology, not bothering to be careful or stealthy, I could be more thorough with my work as the connection was not as pleasant as that of the last time I did this, ensuring that the Ork howled with pain and rage, despite the fact that Orks generally had very little sense for pain. I felt my grin only grow as I dived deeper into the Ork's biology, passed the organs and blood, and into the creatures very DNA.

"Don't worry, my dear test subject, this will be rather painful." I remarked as tendrils of Warp energy started to rip into the Warboss's DNA, looking for details as the creature howled again in pain, louder than before. My smirk took on a sinister light.

"What comes next... Only more so..."

 **XXX**

Ok, so, turns out that the Old Ones were a _hell_ of a lot more powerful and advanced than I had realized. Yeah, I knew they were bloody advanced when it came to Warp sciences along with engineering sapient races, but then again, simply hearing about these things is one thing, _seeing_ it is a whole different kettle of fish.

The Orks, frankly, were incredible, simply from an genetic engineering stand point. Their DNA was hardcoded with dozens of complex behavioral subroutines with even more filled with what looked like psychic thresholds to allow the creation of individuals that are then granted access to specific sections of this data. Mekboyz are granted access to sections regarding technology, Painboyz are granted information on Ork biology while others gain information on a dozen different topics or gain new patterns of behavior. This was all based on those same thresholds I had mentioned, designed to function once an Ork population had reached a certain critical mass before it started effecting them, working more like minimum and maximum margins for when to start producing individuals and the ratio when compared to the rest of the Ork population in a given area.

It was pure genius, there were simply no other words for it, and the best part was that, unless someone knew about this, then they would think that the spawning of these individuals was completely random, at best. Then again, that was never in doubt when one considers the sheer age and power that the Old Ones had before they were wiped out by the Enslavers.

Still, while that was all fascinating, I had my eyes on a different prize.

Their psychic field.

Turns out, I was wrong, they did use the Warp to work, but only in the way that they seemed to make use of the twisting, malleable physics of the hell realm. Not only that, but their field served as a one-way system that kept all of the emotional energy trapped within a bottomless bottle while allowing Warp energy in, after being heavily filtered and purified of the influence of the Beings of the Warp, to enrich said emotional energy. The end result was that Orks could simply tell physics to fuck off and allowed them to build things that, by all rights, should _not_ work, such as simply having a picture of an engine saying _Vroom!_ instead of an actual engine and, yet, still having that vehicle still working just as well when driven by an Ork.

More important still, I now know how to, sort of, replicate the field to one degree or another. The initial information of the Ork's field, now known to me in a great amount of detail, was enough for my mind to start working on my own version of it.

I contemplated all of this as I teleported back to my Home base aboard the _Indomitable_ , humming a nice tune to myself as I took my new Massacre along with me, the nineteen machines standing strong even, even looking clean after I left the refuge of the fight behind, only teleporting the machines themselves. Still, I made a note to go back at some point and finish grabbing the rest of that ship, salvaging it for startup materials for my future plans.

After all, it would have been a waste to simply leave such materials lying around, gathering dust, and a crime to leave such things in the hands of the Orks.

 _"I take it that you obtained all that you wished for?"_ I heard Taenera say as she floated behind me, her face covered with a knowing smirk as I just grinned in response.

"Yep. I was looking into the nature of the Orks Psychic fields to see if it would be possible to replicate them in the future, for a number of different reasons, but the main one being that, frankly speaking, it allows the Orks to channel the power of their own thoughts and emotions, amplified by slithers of Warp energy, to have a tangible effect on reality itself." I said as I beamed with excitement. The Spirit simply chuckled at that, nodding at what I said.

 _"True enough, the Krork were potent weapons back during the War, their collective beliefs were strong enough to hold back the tide of unliving metal more than once, even pushing the Necrons back even more times than that."_ Taenera spoke, drawing my surprise at that as I caught something she said about the Krork.

"Do you mean that you, as in the Eldar people, viewed the Krork as little more than living weapons?" I asked, curious as to the answer as it might open up new lines of inquiry for me to investigate in the future. Taenera snorted at that, before losing it and laughing for a moment.

 _"Even the Old Ones looked at the Krork as little more than semi-sentient, Fungal-based, living weapons that would only serve as foot soldiers during the War once things got bad enough. After the War was finished, the Old Ones planned to remove the Krork from existence, since they posed too much of a danger without a clear enemy to fight. If I remember correctly, the Krork had a kill-code written into their genes that required a rather specific Psychic wave-pulse in order to trigger. However, once triggered, it would cause a cascade reaction that would kill all of them down to the last spore."_

"How do you know all of this?" I asked, curiosity growing as I considered what was said. Taenera merely offered a shrug before speaking once more.

 _"The same way I know about some of the features of the Spirit Stones given to us by the Old Ones and how to craft my own weapons from Wraithbone; Once you got to a high enough rank, the Old Ones pulled you to one side and started teaching you about some of the more advanced tricks they had picked up in their long existence. Sure, we never got anywhere_ near _their level, but we did get a lot more powerful by the standards of our race."_ Once more, I got distracted by another point that she raised, as I considered it before speaking.

"Wait, what other features do the Spirit Stones have? I thought those were just vessels to contain a person's soul after death, were they different back during those times?" I asked, getting a nod in turn.

 _"The 'Modern' Spirit Stones are complete rubbish when compared to the ones we fought the Necrons with. Each one held a small sample of our blood that could, if the soul contained within it was skilled and powerful enough, be used to regrow their bodies while on the battlefield while complex Wards would recloth them in the armor that was on their dead bodies."_ That got a raised eyebrow from me, begging another question.

"Then why haven't you managed to regrow your body? I would have thought that you would have done so well before I had arrived on Junkheap." I questioned as she turned her head down, seemingly in shame as I looked on.

 _"... My Spirit Stone took damage while I slept within it, a crack formed that caused the sample of DNA to be fouled, millions of years ensured that it was reduced to dust and, while I have a passable skill in Biomancy, I lack the skills to recreate my body from scratch. My abilities with Biomancy were staged around using pre-existing materials to create something or for First aid in the field. Unless you are willing to find a fresh body for me, then I'm going to be stuck like this for a significant amount of time."_ Taenera remarked with a forlorn resignation and acceptance of her situation that, honestly, didn't sit well with me one bit. I made a mental note to see about creating a new body for her at some point, maybe some time in the future, but that was a while off yet.

"I'm sorry." Were the only words I offered as I sent feelings of reassurance through the bond to her, resulting in her face brightening up as I felt her presence covering me like a cloak, feelings of happiness and comfort filling it as we both lapsed into a comfortable silence.

 **XXX**

Ten years.

That is how long it had been since I had first arrived on Junkheap, eight since I had run into Taenera, and so far, things had been going well. I had managed to create a kind of existence on the forsaken planet while the Eldar spirit worked to help me master much of what she knew, some of it simply not being possible to teach due to her own lack of a body since the more physical training required a more... _Hands-on_ approach, much more than just transferring memories to me. For that matter, I had grown close to Taenera, enough to think of her as a friend while we talked and joked and chatted about this and that, often to the point that we'd descend into hysterics and laughter before calming ourselves down.

It was nice, especially to have someone to talk to besides myself, especially given that for the first two years, the only company I had were the Orks, and they were more inclined to shoot me rather than have a nice discussion about this and that.

Still, as I worked in a spare chamber I had made, I smiled as I looked at the work before me, the product of the last five years of effort, research and experimentation all made whole.

The beginnings of my army.

Before me, arranged in rows of thirty that went thirty lines deep, were massive containers, their front sections being made from a transparent metal alloy as to allow me to see the progress of each of the individuals inside of the cylinders that held them. Each individual was floating within these cylindrical chambers, held in place by a thick, viscous liquid that was highly oxygenated to allow for a person to breath it, around them, numerous tubes and needles connected to the individual while sensors within the chambers reported the status of each individual to me, either through the control terminal at the front of the room, or to the DNI that was connected to my armor.

Glancing back down, I picked one individual to check over before making the final preparations. A thought-command later and I had a file displayed in front of me by holographic projectors, displaying one of the 450 males that made up the total population of beings. I looked at the image, examining the creature before looking over the data with more interest.

On the outside, the being looked completely Human, but on the inside... Well, that was a _completely_ different story.

Inside, these creatures were rather far removed from Humans, they'd still count as a sub-species, but that might have been pushing it by the... _Generous_ tolerances of the Imperium. These beings were fully augmented from their moment of inception, carrying the same augments that I had found within the Void Marines, only designed to be self-propagating to allow for every member of this new race to have the same abilities. To ensure this would happen, the beings had two sets of circulatory systems a primary one and two backups, all lined with capillary muscles in case any of the Hearts were two damaged to handle the strain of pumping the life giving liquids around the body. Of the two circulatory systems, one was what one would expect from a normal Human, carrying red and white blood cells along with everything else that one would expect, plus a few other things like the Dark Age equivalent of the Larraman cells, only much more effective. The second circulatory systems carried something else entirely: A stream of self-replicating nanites that were incapable of existing outside the body of their hosts, allowing for my creations to be truly Techno-organic beings from birth.

As a result, not only did they have their full set of bio-chemical, genetic and biological augments, but they also had the same cybernetic augments, modified slightly to allow for their growth and changes over time. However, the biggest thing in my opinion, was the Psychic field that these beings would share between themselves, acting like a semi-hivemind presence with the added function of allowing their collective will to alter reality, I was rather proud of it since I also decided to add a system to create pseudo-Psykers that could harness this energy. Sure, all of these beings could harness the field's power, but that was more of a passive thing, infusing them with more strength the longer they lived. By my calculations, at this moment, they were about at the halfway point between Imperial Guard Stormtroopers, and Space Marines, that could change in time, but that kind of thing was a long way off.

Turning back to the image, I noted the cyan lines visible through the skin, tracing over the body as I smiled slightly, it reminded me of the main character of an old game I quite enjoyed, Too Human, it was called.

In that theme, I had also named the Field that connected them as the ODIN Field, one of the main building blocks of my Aesir

What? I liked that game, Damnit!

"Well... Here goes nothing..." I muttered to myself as I flipped the last switch.

The effect was instantaneous. Throughout the room, the pods, which had been angled back, slowly moved to stand straight up as machinery moved within the pods to place clothes on their un-moving bodies to give them some aspect of modesty. While they had slept, I had used the technology around me to program their minds, planting knowledge into their brains so that they would know a few things before waking up.

The first thing they would know would be that I had created them. The second would be that I had created them to help me in the purpose of protecting Humanity, even from itself if needed. The third would be that I was not going to force them to be my slaves if they refused to obey me, mostly because, once more, I found the idea of slavery rather... _Distasteful_. Along with that, I uploaded information about culture, technology, history and information about themselves, what they were capable of and what they might be facing. I also uploaded the name of their race, but aside from that, I left them entirely alone, I knew that even while they remained in an unconscious state, they were still aware, if only because of their ODIN Field, allowing them to process this influx of information.

In total, I was willing to give them a purpose, but I wasn't willing to force them to accept it, nor did I want mindless, flesh-automatons that would do as I wished, I wanted a people who would be willing to stand by me through thick and thin, one that could evolve and develop of their own accord, even making their own culture.

Finally, I was brought out of my musings as the first pod opened, the first Aesir almost falling out before catching herself and looking around as she stood up to her full height of almost 2.5 metres tall, since the height of these beings was variable within a range of 2.1 metres all the way to just under my own hulking 2.85 metres at 2.8 metres tall. The woman before me was actually rather average in terms of height as she suddenly caught sight of me, her gaze looked and her face in an unreadable expression as she started walking forwards, her nanites preventing muscle atrophy as I took a moment to look her over.

She was tall, which went without saying, well toned with perfectly built muscles covering her frame while cream skin was stretched across that, skin I knew could take a .50 calibur bullet and come out of it with only a small bruise. Bright red hair flowed down from her head, forming waves that went down to her waist while ice-blue eyes looked at me with an expression of utter focus, lines of cyan visible around her face and other exposed areas of skin not covered by the grey shorts and vest-top that was put on her. Her face, as most would consider it, would have been quite beautiful by Human standards, delicate features that hid her true strength while body, likewise, was something that even the most beautiful would have sold their souls to Slaanesh for a chase to have even a tenth of her beauty, with a generous chest, a thin waist, wide hips and mile long legs.

As she approached, I stood from my chair and steeled myself, my powers at the back of my mind as I made ready to construct a new suit of armor over my clothes, a black T-shirt, a pair of Jeans and some boots, all made for my size through my powers. Of course, it seemed that my worries were for not when I saw what the woman did once she was within two metres of me.

She kneeled.

"Great-Father. What is your command?" She asked as she kept her face turned to the floor, around her, the others soon joined her, walking forwards and kneeling as I realized what she had called me.

I couldn't help but smirk at that. It seemed they had taken after the Norse mythos that I had given them.

 **XXX**

 _"... What?"_ I can honestly say, the sight of Taenera dumbstruck, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open to such an extent that I almost thought that she had unhinged her jaw, would forever be one of my most cherished memories, if only because she could be one hell of a smartass at times. Still, I rolled my eyes at her question before repeating what I just said, a smug smile slipping on to my lips, completely against my will, of course.

"I said." I began. "That I believe that I can give you a body again, not an Eldar body, unfortunately, but a Human one similar to that of the Aesir that I created, I could even modify it further with Psychic-Warp energy batteries to give you better endurance while using the powers of the Sea of Souls. Upgrade it to be even stronger, faster, more durable, and-"

 _"I heard you the first time, Marcus"_ The Spirit cut me off as I started heading back into a more in-depth explanation as to what I could do to the new body at her suggestion, but she rolled her eyes and offered me an indulgent smile. _"I just find it surprising that you are even offering me this. I was under the impression that you disliked my kind and preferred me as... Well-"_ She waved her hand through a bulkhead to prove her point of her own ghostly nature. That resulted in it being my turn to roll my eyes.

"I never said that, though I will admit that I dislike the modern day Eldar on general principle due to the shit they've caused to the wider Humanity. I'm willing to change my opinions based on the actions of specific groups or individuals, but unless the _entire_ race changes, then my opinion of them will remain the same. You, however, are rather distinct from the modern day Eldar, as, based on your memories, I have long since classed the Eldar of your time and the Eldar the current era as two different entities. Something that, I suppose, would be rather easy to consider, especially when you consider that you will be looking at over sixty million years of genetic drift." I stated, muttering that last statement as the thought of Taenera being considered a different race due to the sheer amount of time that had passed was something of an interesting concept.

 _"... I... Thank you, Marcus. And yes, I accept your offer of creating a new body for me. Modify it as you wish, the appearance is of little consequence since I can modify it back to look like myself once I'm finished."_ I nod at that as I turn back to the control terminal which I was seated at, a single Birthing Pod already prepared as I pressed a button and watched as the process began before glancing over my shoulder to give one passing remark at the at the floating Eldar Spirit.

"Ya'know, if I really wanted to, I could have ordered you to accept the new body and you would have been forced to obey due to the nature of that Bond you made with me." I remarked as she smiled at that, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

 _"And yet, you didn't. I know you, Marcus, and I know that you find slavery in any form to be a disgusting action, one that, while you can understand and even tolerate in specific circumstances, you will never condone or practice yourself. I know you well enough to know that you would never use such an option unless it was absolutely required of you, otherwise, you will move to convince me to accept something, but if I refuse all your attempts, you will simply let the subject drop and move on. Eight years of existing beside you have taught me that much."_ She replied with a smirk, causing me to smirk in turn as I turned back to the holograms before me.

"True enough." I remarked as I looked at the rapidly forged body, going from an embryo to a fully grown adult body of twenty years old within a minute, a few scans showed that the augments were holding steady as I checked and double checked everything, nodding to myself as all the standard stuff was present before looking through the other options. I frowned slightly as I considered what to add, before I smiled slightly.

When in doubt, go overboard.

The first thing I did was hollow out the bones of the new body, replacing the marrow with batteries of crystalline material designed to store Warp energy and release it at the command of the Psyker, specialized organs soon appeared within the body that would produce blood cells to ensure that she wasn't damaged by the change. Following that, I implanted stronger versions of most of the augments before lacing her bones with Phase Iron particles and placing Psi-Jammers in her skull, I knew she could ignore the effects of both, having fought with her Psychic powers on battlefields covered by Null Matrixes and Gloom Prisms, these wouldn't even bother her. Lastly, the nerves of her new body were replaced with semi-organic superconductors, while her muscle density was increased well beyond that of the Aesir and laced with even better myomer fibres. By the time the body was finished, she was looking at the pod with great anticipation for becoming a physical being yet again even as I added a finishing touch, Psi-reactive implant that could, if she wished, connect her to the ODIN Field to use as either her go-to method of drawing power, or her last resort.

With the body finished, I pressed a few more buttons before watching as the fluid drained from the pod, mechanical arms holding the body up as I watched the hatch open up, clothes already being present on the body. Honestly, the task of creating a souless, but living body for Taenera was rather easy, all I needed to do was encase the Pod with Phase Iron and ensure that no connection to the Warp was formed as the body was created, preventing a new soul from being born. Turning to Taenera, I gestured towards the pod with my head.

"On you go." I remarked as she beamed at me before shooting off from her position behind me, not even bothering to move around any obstacles as she phased right through them, including my shoulder. The contact made it feel like someone had suddenly dumped a bucket of liquid nitrogen over my shoulder before I shook off the feeling and got up from my seat. I looked up just in time to see Taenera disappear into her new body, I was already moving around when I saw it start twitching, eyes moving behind closed eyelids before it started to fall from the mechanical arms holding it up.

What happened next took several moments for me to actually process.

Instead of falling to the ground like I expected, Taenera gained control of her body and accelerated, enhancing her body through the powers of the Warp as I suddenly found myself slammed to the ground with her lying on top of me. Looking at her, I saw that her facial features having already shifted back to her original features along with her hair, though she had kept as Human ears rather than Eldar ears, I saw her emerald eyes shining with something I couldn't quite identify as her hands slipped around the back of my neck even as I lay on the ground with her on top. Though, even then, I still noticed that her body was a lot more... _Generous_ than I had believed with the armor her Spirit-self had worm, with a large chest, flawless skin, a thin waist and long, well toned legs that just went on and on.

Leaning forwards, I was brought out of my musings as Taenera whispered something that I almost didn't catch.

"Thank you..." She said, her voice so quiet and so filled with emotions that I almost missed it, I went to speak, to tell her that she had no need for thanking me for something that I would have gladly done. However, I never got the chance.

Because moments later, my mouth was playing host to her tongue as she smashed her lips into mine and used her new-found strength to drag me to her. I didn't even react, so caught up in the surprising turn of events that my mind went blank for a moment.

Though, I did have one thought running through my mind: Her lips tasted like strawberries...

 **XXX**

Standing in full armor had never really bothered me, now, as I stood before a crowd of my own creations, though...

It felt different.

Ten years of on and off fighting against the Orks had caused me to repeatedly change my armor to serve my purposes until it had reached the current form that it stood in, a form that now stood before the assembled might of over nine hundred Aesir. It was sleek, more form fitting and made from multiple plates that looked to be solidified darkness that drank in the light of the surrounding area, making it near impossible to find if it stood in the shadows. The armor was based off of the final form of Ultron from Avengers: Age of Ultron, but with a different head, one that was a simple, featureless mask with only two red lenses, lacking any expression beyond an intimidating stare. However, for now, that helmet was retracted into the collar and neck of my armor as I looked at the gathered warriors before me.

All of them stood at attention, weapons held at the ready as they remained sealed within their armors. Over seven hundred of them wore what I considered as 'Standard infantry armor', the rest of the Galaxy might disagree, but they could go fuck themselves for all I cared, while the remaining two hundred wore much heavier armor that increased their height quite significantly. Those wearing the Standard armor looked like they were wearing the USIF Powered Assault Armor from Section 8, specifically, they looked like they were wearing the Blitz variant with a dull black, non-reflective finish. I had recreated the armor, and the weapons to go with it, due to both a love of the game and because the armor and weapons had some rather good features to them, though, I did turn most of the weapons into Las-weapons, with exceptions of the Sniper Rifle, Shotgun and Rocket Launcher. These were turned into a Nano-Shredder, a Meltagun and a high-powered Missile launcher, respectively.

Those wearing the Heavier stuff, well, they looked like they were wearing an all black version of the Medium armors from Anthem, the new game that I saw was coming out. I had seen the trailer for, along with the first look at gameplay, before I had been yanked, and I had liked the look of it. They were armed with dual-purpose rifles that had two modes; An Accelerator Cannon and a High-powered Las-talon. On each shoulder, they carried a different weapon, the right carrying a Metal Storm style Micro-Missile Launcher while the other held a Plasma Mortar of significant power.

Looking around, I could honestly say I was rather happy with what I saw, especially as I watched Taenera moving to stand by my side, closer than a bodyguard should, but definitely behind my shoulder to show her willingness to follow my lead. She was decked out in a suit of armor quite like that of the Standard, however, the armor plating was laced with silver and she had four canisters jutting out the back of the armor, one on each shoulder, angled upwards, while another two came from her lower back, angled down and outwards. These canisters were as big as a person's forearm and filled to the brim with more Warp-Psychic batteries, a new pattern of armor meant for the Pseudo-Psykers that would fill the ranks at some point. Her weapon was another example of that, a staff laced with Warp-conductive materials with a neural link to the user, made of black metal and tipped with a triplet of blades that all encircled the centre of the staff pole, where a needle-like protrusion extended above them.

I nodded to her as I glanced back at the warriors standing at the ready.

It was time to get things moving.

"Warriors of the Aesir! Lend me your ears!" I commanded as they stood at attention, if their full attention wasn't on me already, it was now.

"I forged you to act as Humanity's Sword and Shield, against any, and all, possible threats, even the self-destructive nature of man itself, I created you, not as slaves, but protectors of those that would suffer under the watch of the corrupt, the immoral, the bigoted and the avarice. Today, you shall show me whether you are up to the task of carrying this out. Today, you shall show me if I had made the right decision in giving you life and placing this burden upon your shoulders. Today! I shall see you baptized in blood and fire! I shall see your wills tested, your strength examined and your spirit challenged! Will I find you wanting?!" I shouted, asking them as I was giving the pre-battle speech for what was ahead.

"Never!" Came the answering cry from nine hundred lips, speaking as one voice, one people, one mind. I smiled as I continued onwards.

"Then, my Aesir, I will tell you this! You will be the Warm breath that melts the Ice of this Age!" I shouted.

"We are the Wolf." They responded, I frowned slightly as I wondered how they had responded like that, even as I carried on, mentally looking through my mind for a connection to them before I found none.

"You shall free this existence of cold stagnation!"

"We are the Bear!"

"With a single moment, a defining purpose becomes clear!"

"We are the Aesir!" The roared. I smiled at that, still confused as to what was happening until I felt Taenera brush against my mind, indicating something to me as I suddenly saw what was happening... And I smiled as a result.

"And it will be by your hands, Humanity shall be saved!" I shouted, my response was a wordless roar of approval as I felt their approval of my message, their want to prove men right, I hadn't even noticed the connection between myself and the others, not even knowing that I had become a part of the ODIN Field, but it seemed that I had, and my thoughts had influenced them into answering my speech the way they had. I had merely gone with the flow. Smirking at that, a thought-command summoned my helmet as I looked towards them, a surge of Warp energy building around me as I teleported my Massacres to me.

All fifty of them.

I smirked at that, the machines standing at the ready while I looked at the crowd before me. They were ready, they were prepared, and they were waiting for a chance to cut their teeth on the flesh of their enemies. Without another sound, reality suddenly twisted as I poured my powers into the air around me, seizing over 951 people, not counting myself, and then throwing them through the Warp towards our target.

It was time the Orks learned that there was a new Landlord on Junkheap.

And the Orks were a few millennia overdue rent, but that was okay, we were perfectly willing to accept other forms of payment.

Their blood being one such payment method, by the litre.

 **XXX**

Yeah, I know! I enjoyed Too Human and decided to bring back the memory of that game since I used to play it so much, I still do from time to time. Hope it wasn't too much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this Chapter and, as always, feedback is appreciated. Until next time.


	5. Thawing the Ice

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, another long chapter, should be interesting and answer yet more questions for you lot. Though, keep in mind that this will have a fair bit of technobabble in it, which I have _tried_ to keep to a minimum beyond what I felt was necessary. Also, there will be a few sections that will be present to advance the plot along, keep that in mind.

Hope you enjoy!

 **XXX**

Baptized in Fire and Blood, just as the Great Father promised.

Frida couldn't help but smile as that promise was upheld in full as she shot up from cover, her assault rifle held within eager arms before snapping three shots off in rapid succession, each on scoring a kill shot on a Ork ahead of her as more Aesir pours into the Ork settlement, intent on removing it and the Greenskins with it. Around her, she could hear the _Snap-hiss!_ of Las-bolts being fired by any number of weapons as the Aesir surged ahead, their armor and weapons giving them an undeniable edge over the crude weapons of the Orks. Out of the corner of her eye, Frida saw another Aesir stumble, the impact of rounds on his shields pushing him back a step before he got back up, taking his Anvil-pattern Melta gun before firing it in, a cone of superheated Plasma and Fusing matter spraying out from the twin barrels of the weapon. Elsewhere, she saw a Mega-armored Nob trying to rally the Orks as they fought in a chaotic mess, he didn't last as a round from a Vanguard-pattern Nano-shredder hit him, coating him in what looked like black powder over his chest. Nothing happened for a moment, but then the Ork suddenly found itself being ripped apart blades only slightly larger than its own cells.

From above, Plasma rained down and blasted chunks of rock from the ceiling of the cavern or destroying massive areas of the Settlement, burning them until nothing but craters of black glass remained. Ahead of her, she spotted more of her Brothers and Sisters, each of them armed with any number of weapons and they advanced, taking advantage of the gifts given to them by the Great Father along with his gifts of armor and weapons.

Shields and armor protected them and turned away blows that would have killed lesser beings; Las-weapons based on his own work on the Las-talon were held in their hands, giving each of them enough firepower to take out lightly armored vehicles if they aimed at the right place. Of course, quite possible, their biggest advantage was their unity.

The Ork Waaagh! Was a powerful thing, that was never in any true doubt, but it was a highly predicable and vulnerable thing if one knew where to look, and, more importantly, where to shoot.

 _"Locate and target the Warboss! If we remove him, then this day shall be ours!"_ Frida ordered over the ODIN Field, their unity allowing them to communicate to one another without the need for machines, even though they still used them to augment the ODIN Field, allowing for virtually unbreakable and undetectable communications since enemy Psykers wouldn't know what they were listening to. Any Psyker that tried to listen to the ODIN Field would simply hear a mess of static, the encryption coming in two parts that would make it impossible to understand without both parts. Fortunately, one needed to be an Aesir in order to have both parts: A Psychic signature that read as an Aesir and a complex, poly-phasic algorithm that changed nearly every other second.

 _"Target found. Liquidating."_ Frida smirked at that as the piercing crack of another Sniper was heard through the air, a picture being directed to her mind as she saw the final moments of the Warboss before it died to the potent Nano-shredders that had become a rather favored weapon among those that enjoyed long distance combat. The effect of the Warboss's death was immediate and apparent as the Orks seemed to lose their way, stumbling as though they were unsure about how to continue. Frida grinned nastily at that as she holstered her rifle before drawing a sword from her back.

It was a massive thing, nearly two metres long, a two-handed grip with a large cross guard giving it the form of a Claymore. The silver blade sang through the air as she lifted it with one hand, the blade seeming to leave a trail of steam behind it while a cracking field of energy wrapped around it.

"This day is ours! Come! For the Great Father!" She shouted throughout the cavern.

"For the Great Father!" Came the answering cry as a dozen more followed her charge, drawing any number of melee weapons and rushing in to kill the last few Orks of this settlement, some even igniting Power Fields around their fists, an option that was built into all of their armors, before starting to beat the Orks to death.

Within two hours, they would be done, having killed the last Ork. Within five hours, there would be nothing left of the settlement, having been wiped out by a large Fusion bomb to leave nothing but a perfect sphere of black glass and molten rock.

Within eight hours, they would be at another Settlement, killing more Orks and ensuring that none lived to pollute their Birthplace with their presence any longer.

Such was the will of the Aesir that all traces of Ork life would be dead and gone within a month.

They had passed their trials and earned their place.

 **XXX**

Ya'know, you can never truly appreciate just how dangerous the Tyranids are until you've fought them. I'll admit, even if they were primitive in terms of technology, their bio-technology was still impressive in its own right.

Looking onwards, I saw the product of one such example of their bio-technology: The Genestealers and their cults.

Advancing through inhabitated corridors, I looked on as my Massacre-class machines kept on moving even as a tidal wave of flesh and Tyranid carapace came charging at them, said tide rapidly found itself crushed under foot or blasted into non-existence by the weapons of the machines. Over an hour of what I would hesitate to call fighting and I had moved deep into their territory, following the feeling of Hunger to try and find the Cult Patriarch, though, that was rather difficult to do since the cult was throwing ever warm body they had at me. I saw men, women and children all run to their deaths while I continued advancing, some were armed with primitive, by my standards, Lasguns and chain weapons while others had little more than sharpened metal pipes that had their tips turned to points or had a sharpened shard of metal tied to their end.

It was a rather disappointing showing for the Tyranids, still, I was to be expected. I had checked the timeline of this cult with my Post-cognition, it had been here for over a thousand years, the currents of the Warp having _really_ sent it back before it was boarded by the Genestealers, where things progressed as one could imagine. Now, the Cult was little more than a few million Hybrids without a single idea what sanity was, and who were willing to follow every command of the Patriarch to the letter, even if it meant throwing themselves into the jaws of death.

At the very least, it meant that I didn't need to search all that much for the blasted things.

 _"Persistent, aren't they? One would think that they would learn from the initial battle against your automatons and pull back."_ I turned my head to regard Taenera, who was standing next to me in full armor as we advanced, staff in hand as I nodded in turn as she tilted her head to one side. _"Do they not have any kind of self-preservation instinct?"_ I shrugged at that, curious of that myself as I watched another Massacre back hand another of the Genestealers which seemed to have a Human's ability for creative thinking, having tried swinging over it using a loose wire as a rope.

 _"Honestly, I have no idea. Though, once this is over with, I'll be sure to tell you after I've thoroughly investigated the corpses of these creatures. Now... Where the hell is there leader?"_ I remarked before questioning through our bond, curious.

 _ **SCREEEEE!**_

 _"I do believe that their leader has arrived."_ Taenera remarked smartly as I turned once more to regard her with a slight glare even as the Massacres moved to engage.

 _"No one likes a smartass..."_ I deadpanned back as I turned back to the fight before rushing forwards, my mind taking in my opponent before me. It was a massive, purple scaled beast with four arms, claws longer than a man's arm and easily stood over me by at least a metre and a half, spikes covered the body and it's fangs prominent in its mouth. Around it, I saw swarms of lesser Genestealers acting like an honor guard, all heavily armored and with claws glinting in the darkness. I smiled at that, it had been a _long_ time since I had faced a challenge.

Reaching behind me, I pulled out one of my weapons, a massive sword, over a metre and a half long, the cutting edges were covered in ridges while it ended with a semi-circular tip that jutted out from the tip of the sword, making it a poor weapon for stabbing, even if that worked rather well. However, it was a great weapon to catch opponents off guard and had some impressive power behind each swing, both because of the Adamantium core of the weapon, especially in the head. I smiled as the black edge of the weapon glowed with the active power field, telling me that it was ready as I took a step forwards.

Then I _moved_.

Ten years of on and off combat had done wonders for me, as such, one can hardly be surprised when I covered the distance between myself and the Cult Patriarch within a few bounds as my sword flashed through the air, bisecting or decapitating Hybrids and Genestealers both before they could even blink. My first swing decapitated seven Genestealers as only the Patriarch was fast enough to survive, having taken a step back in order to avoid getting its head cut in half, getting rewarded with a line cut in its right shoulder, but it's upper right arm was caught in front of my blade.

It lost that arm from the upper forearm down.

Lightning strikes soon followed as Taenera provided support to me, Warp lightning serving to utterly annihilate any target stupid enough to get caught in those blasts as I kept moving, the Patriarch having learned and was avoiding my blade while it lunged at me, trying to stab through my armor. I took a step back and to the left before ducking under the swipe it made with secondary arms before replying in kind, my fist lashing out and smashing into the creatures lower jaw, shattering it as the beast was sent into a nearby wall with enough force to dent said wall. I smiled at that, but didn't stop as I leaped forwards, intent of seizing the initiative of the fight as my blade sung through the air, aiming to cut the beast straight down the middle. The Massive Tyranid was saved by luck as it's body fell to the ground, moving it enough that my blade missed its head, digging into its torso as I frowned, pulling back as another swipe from its left came even as I removed it's right side, allow with its last arm on that side.

"Well then, Beast, time to end this." I remarked as I charged the creature once more, sword singing as the creature jumped over my swing... Just as I wanted it to.

While in the air, I aimed my forearm at it before watching as a barrel extended from it and fired a purple, cracking beam at the creature. With no way of dodging, the beam impacted the beast right in the chest where I watched what happened next with interest as the beam ignited the creature, a flash of blinding light later and all that was left of the creature was a scorch mark on the wall behind it, shaped like the creature itself as I smirked at that.

"A successful test, if ever there was one." I remarked casually to myself as the barrel retracted, hidden under layers of armor. Sure, I hadn't managed to catch the Patriarch, but I could settle for blowing the damned thing to hell along with the corpses of its spawn, besides, that was nothing when compared to the results of my test.

I had managed to recreate the Adrathic weapons.

Oh, that opened _so_ many possibilities up to me...

 **XXX**

Looking around, Taenera grinned as she looked at the Aesir as they worked, they were working hard, learning under the tutoring gaze of Marcus and becoming a race all their own. Already, they had started asking him questions, wishing to learn more and wishing to make their way into the wider Galaxy, under his command, by Isha, they had even started forming their own culture mere months after the defeat of the last Ork and the neutralization of the last Ork spore. Their culture was one with a high warrior mentality while enforcing selflessness, the willingness to stand by your convictions and a protective nature of those under their care, aggression towards enemies was also cultivated along with a rather specific mindset towards technology. Effectively, they wished to develop themselves into a warrior race that would never stand still in terms of anything, always looking for that next advantage and viewed honor as, at best, a laughable concept, or, at worst, a dead man's dream.

If she was honest with herself, she was rather impressed with Marcus' work to create the Aesir, even his work to replicate the Waaagh! Field of the modern Krork in order to grant the Aesir the same ability in the form of the ODIN Field. It was a feat worthy of the Old Ones, especially once some of the discoveries about the field came out in the aftermath of the Ork cleansing.

During the cleansing, some had died, but what was discovered was that their souls had not disappeared into the Warp, but had been contained within the ODIN Field where they had started to merge, forming a gestalt entity that had come to be known as ODIN. However, ODIN differed greatly when compared to the other beings crafted from the Warp, ODIN was merely a manager for the energy that surged through the ODIN Field, along with being used to organize any information that might pass through it for ease of communication.

And many knew that this was only the tip of the iceberg. ODIN was believed to be capable of growing stronger with each death caused by battle, meaning that, in the future, there was no telling just what the gestalt, collective consciousness of the Aesir was going to be capable of.

Still, if there was one thing that Taenera found funny, it was how the Aesir looked at Marcus.

They had known what he had been capable of doing to them since the moment they gained awareness of their situation. They could have easily been turned into barely sentient slaves, but Marcus had decided not to do such a thing, instead, he had created them as partners, allies and friends, asking them to aid them and giving them the option of not taking up arms in his service. None had even tried to take up his offer while all of them stepped forwards as warriors. Marcus's attempts to be humble and asking for their aid had only increased their admiration for him, if that was even possible when the entire race practically worshiped him.

They viewed him as their creator, something they were correct about, but they considered it a great honor to have been chosen and created by Marcus, calling him the 'Great Father', and considering much of the knowledge that he gave them as sacred. This knowledge was recorded with painstakingly precise penmanship and would lay the ground work for much of their development in the future.

Of course, Taenera still found it funny that the any of the Aesir would have happily done anything he asked, considering just things as their duty to their creator, by Isha, he could have even ordered any number of the Aesir women into his bed and they would have happily jumped at the chance.

But what made it so funny was the simple fact that Marcus had yet to notice such things, not even seeing the reverence in the eyes of some of them, especially in those that had been awoken first.

"I trust that the day finds you well, Herald?" Taenera turned from her thoughts as she looked to see Frida, the First-To-Be-Awoken and the current de-facto leader of the Aesir when Marcus wasn't present to command them to action. The red-head was a highly capable warriors, having lead and even carried out entire operations without Marcus's input on the matter, but she had worked hard to ensure that she reached such a level, constantly practicing with every tool of war at hand along with studying ever text on the art of war that was released by Marcus, even the book called that very term that was, apparently, the required study material for anyone wishing to enter the Human military for over 25 millennia.

"I am well, thank you for asking, Frida." Taenera replied, amused by the title that the Aesir had given her as she took in the form of this Aesir. She stood tall in what amounted to casual clothing for the Aesir; Thick, high heeled boots that came up to her upper shins while her trousers were connected to them in turn, a dress-like bit of cloth wrapped around the back and sides of her waist while front was covered by a loincloth-like bit of clothing, both were trimmed in gold with elaborate patterns flowing around the edges with a simplistic symbol that looked like a sword with the handle floating above the guard and with two curved blades on either side of it being present on the front loincloth. Around her waist, she wore a thick, metal belt that dipped into a V-shape at the front before it continued around her waist, from that, she wore what looked like a white corset with a cut down the middle that went all the way down to her belt before stopping at the bottom of the V-shaped section. The top of the corset disappeared under what looked like a jacket that only covered her shoulders and arms down to the wrist with a high collar and it lengthening around her back. It was an impressive set of attire, one that would probably attract many eyes from the lesser men and women of the Human race, especially with the cut widening at the top to reveal a generous amount of cleavage.

"That is good to hear." The Aesir replied neutrally as Taenera took control of the conversation.

"How has the progress of the initial Vitea Wombs been coming along?" Taenera asked as she saw Frida's eyes rapidly shift, looking at her before looking back ahead of her a moment later. They were both in the upper levels of a training hall, in a small rest area with a seller of drinks, looking over the training area below from a balcony.

"Slowly, but the Great Father wishes to ensure the safety of those born within them. He does not wish to see them come to harm..." Frida replied as she went quiet for a moment, a common thing when the Aesir considered Marcus's actions and found him to be surprisingly humble, finding him as someone _worth_ following and leading them. Quickly, she shook it off before continuing onwards.

"They will finish construction within the next few days and we shall see our numbers expanding significantly within the next week. Though, the Great Father has warned that he is only using this method initially to expand our numbers to a more stable and suitable amount for our own safety, namely to allow for a stable breeding number of individuals." Frida stated, understanding the wisdom, but finding, once more, humbling and admirable that the Great Father didn't merely wish to mass-produce more Aesir like weapons from a factory, clearly showing his desire to help them become a people in their own right, with a duty to aid in the protection of mankind from threats, both internal and external.

"Indeed." Taenera had already done the math, checking and rechecking it a dozen times just to be sure. There were going to be three new facilities that were to become operational within the next week, the first wave of new Aesir would come two weeks later while the original facility was used to bring the original number back up to nine hundred. Of course, each of these other facilities could also hold nine hundred newly birthed Aesir. So, if her math was right, it would be possible to see exactly 2,700 Aesir within the next month, with plans to add another four facilities while they slept so that the next wave brought their total number up to 8,100, and so on and so forth. This was planned to continue until the total population had reached roughly five million individuals before being disabled and the Aesir would need to procreate naturally by that point to raise their numbers, if they hadn't started sooner already.

Of course, merely reproducing was hardly the only thing that the Aesir were doing. Already, a number of the Aesir had turned to becoming Vanir, beings capable of channeling the powers of the ODIN Field to perform acts similar to a Psyker. Over two hundred of them had come about in the time since the Ork Purge, roughly two weeks, and all of them were receiving personal instruction from Marcus himself in how to use their abilities, with a fair bit of time focused on learning how to use the same abilities as him. They were being used to rapidly speed up the construction process, using databases of information stored by ODIN to help them built faster as the area around the Great Father's home base was rapidly turned into a small settlement.

"I'm sure that the Great Father will be pleased with your progress." Taenera said, offering a soft smile at that while using the Aesir title for Marcus. If there was one thing she had learned about the Aesir, it was that they gave respect to those that earned it, both on and off the battlefield, especially if those people gave respect to the Great Father. Some took it any number of ways, but it all showed that if they believed that Marcus was going to be proud of them, then most would be utterly thrilled.

As she walked away, the former Eldar saw Frida's beaming smile, but also noticed something else, a light dusting of pink around the female Aesir's cheeks as her eyes became glazed over slightly.

"Interesting..."

 **XXX**

It had been five years since the creation of the Aesir, fifteen years since I came here, and I could honestly say that the sheer amount of shit that had changed in the last five years was simply insane.

For one thing, Junkheap had changed. No longer was it a barren hunk of rock with the sterns of Starships hanging out, it now looked like an infinitely complex series of shells, each made of hexagonal struts that grew thicker and thicker as one moved away from the core. So dense were these layers that one couldn't even _see_ the core of the planet as it turned into solid layers of metal after a certain distance from the furthest outer surface. Under all of that, there was still a shit load of work to do as the rocks and ship hulks needed to be cleared away first before anything further could be done, but it was getting there, I had gotten better at transmuting materials from one form to another, no longer finding it as tiring, but it was still a work in progress as I often spent my days shifting entire asteroids into hunks of metal that the Vanir could use to construct more structures with their Technomancy.

Still, as they went deeper, they marked any ships I hadn't spotted and would inform me of what they found, after which, I would come along and learn all that I could from them before either letting them be used as raw materials or transmuting them into something that the Vanir _could_ work with. Of course, some things proved more difficult for me to work with than others, Necrodermis and whatever the hell the Old Ones used in their ships being the main examples as I found a few of those ships near the core of the rapidly-developing planet and had them stored away in specially built vaults for further study in the future.

Needless to say, those ships were being kept a secret and hidden so deeply that none would know about them but me and my chosen few, if only so as to give us an advantage for the future if we run into an enemy that we couldn't beat with our current tech.

And, of course, it seemed that the Aesir had decided that I should get the best fucking seat in the entire house. They had built a tower, a massive thing that extended from a thousand kilometres under the upper-most layer of the planet to just over five hundred kilometres above the surface of the rest of the planet, sitting at the northern pole of the planet. Of course, one might have thought this would have made the tower an easy target.

They would have been wrong.

The entire tower was covered in over 150 metres of Black plate armor, with fifteen layers of Void Shields mixed with specially designed Gravimetric manipulators. The Void Shields stopped enemy fire from directly hitting the tower, the Gravimetric manipulators meant that most attacks would not even get _that_ far as space would distort to the point that they would go flying off into space. And then, you had to consider the fact that the entire tower was armed to the extreme with point defense lasers strong enough to be used as anti-Strike Craft weapons but also accurate enough to blow missiles and torpedoes out of the air at a significant distance. Quad-mounted Lancers, Helical Railguns that fired shells the size of a person's house and armed with Anti-matter warheads, up-scaled Conversion Beamers, Neutron Lasers and some other stuff that I had yet to look at. Frankly, the number of defenses on the tower were simply insane, with the rest of the planet only a few steps behind it.

It was understandable since the tower, along with acting as my home, was also the planetary strong point and CIC for the entire defense of the planet, the majority of the planet's military was garrisoned there, with teleporters allowing for rapid transit to and from locations across the planet, helped along by the planet wide Gellar Field to prevent Warp-fuckery from taking place. This was further augmented by Wards that Taenera had been teaching both myself and the Vanir, meaning that Warp Predators, Daemons, would find themselves in one hell of a situation if they thought they could get on to the planet.

They'd be dead inside of half a minute, maximum.

However, one thing that I always found funny was the names. The Aesir had decided to name the tower Asgard while naming the rest of the planet Yggdrasil. I didn't mind, but I honestly thought that Junkheap had a bit more charm to it, hell, I even considered calling the planet Cybertron, if only because they looked so damned alike.

 **XXX**

"I take it you approve?" I asked as I looked over my shoulder to see Frida in her casual attire, which reminded me of Freya from Too Human, looking at the holographic display in front of me. I could understand why that was, especially given the content currently being displayed.

"I _highly_ approve of these machines, Great Father, and I would like to ask if others, and myself, may begin their construction immediately." She said, never taking her eyes from the projection.

Currently, it was displaying a number of designs for new military units, all of which were based on things from Section 8 with the odd exception here and there. The Main battle tank was based on the F17 Marauder, now called the Marauder-pattern assault tank, crewed by three men (Driver, gunner and commander) and armed with a dual Railgun system with a smart ammo feeding system, allowing it to serve as both an MBT and a Mobile artillery platform with any number of shell types being available. On the turret, there was another turret with a pair of twin-linked Multi-Las, for anti-infantry duty, while a Vertical Launch Missile system was located behind the turret along with a Mortar system to provide both Indirect fire support and close-range support. All the physical munitions could be equipped with any number of warheads, ranging from standard high explosive and Fragmentation to more exotic things like Plasma, Biological, Melta and Vortex. The entire thing was also an Anti-grav vehicle, making it even more dangerous since few obstacles could keep it down since it could hover over five metres above the ground, if needed, not to mention being equipped with a mixture of Void and Ion Shields.

The main deployment system was the Sky Crane-Pattern Dropship, based on the A-M12 Sky Crane, and made to look like the version from Section 8: Prejudice. The thing had a carry capacity of twenty fully armored and equipped Aesir light infantry, called Sleipnir, or ten Heavy infantry, called Nidhug. As it was based on Section 8 Tech, that meant that it was capable of launching the soldiers from it via Burning In, turning each soldier into a one-person Drop Pod without the Drop Pod. Not only that, but it had a mixture of magnetic and gravimetric clamps on the underside that could hold any number of vehicles, though, depending on the situation, vehicles could be carried internally if no infantry were present. The Dropship was armed with a mixture of missiles, point defense lasers and a Plasma Beam cannon for strafing runs and close-air support, while a dual-layer Flare/Void Shield worked to protect the craft from attack. Then again, it would have been rather difficult to attack the Sky Crane, if only because of the stealth systems built into it.

Scouting was done by the Spectre-Pattern Hover bike, based on the Spectre hover bike, was an Anti-grav hover bike designed for scouting, harassing and hunter-killer duties. The thing was fast, capable of flying over ten metres above the ground and 'jumping' fifty metres above that while the 'ground' was classed as anything directly below it, meaning the damned thing was capable of climbing vertical walls and even drive upside down with little trouble. It was armed with a triple-barreled Las-Talon with the power of a Lascannon, but the fire rate of something much less powerful while a multi-role vertical missile launcher was located at the back of the bike. Complex sensors were present within the bike, to aid in its roles, while a stealth system hid it from view, a flare shield was also present to help offer a defense to the, otherwise, exposed pilot.

Finally, for heavy combat and shock assaults was the Silverback-pattern exo-armor, based on the M05 Silverback. It was my answer to the Dreadnought and Terminators, armed with a Rotary Plasma Blaster on each forearm, a pack of thirty Multi-role micro-missiles on each shoulder and the claws on each finger, along with the foot talons, being capable of being sheathed in a Power Field, these things were heavily armored and armed. Of course, things would only get worse from there for an enemy faced with one, as each one came equipped with a Flare Shield, Ion Shield and a full self-repair system based on the Nanites that I had recovered from both DAoT Human ships and MoI ships. Worse yet, they had a sonic device built into the head of the machine that was capable of releasing a howl for psychological effect, one that could be focused into a short ranged weapon capable of shattering stone at fifteen metres.

Deployables were also present, with more options like tower-like constructs that could extend upwards before forming walls with walkways upon them or housing sections, allowing for a base to rapidly be constructed on the fly. Turrets were the same, with the Anti-infantry ones now being armed with any number of weapons rather than just railguns, as could all the other turrets.

However, the thing that would _really_ piss an opponent off was the sheer amount of networking that was present throughout the entire force, allowing for everyone to call on any asset available on the field of battle, from the simple recon drone to reinforcements being deployed by orbitally dropped, Rexus-pattern Armored Assault Mechs, each capable of carrying over sixty Sleipnir, thirty Nidhug or, at least, four tanks. It was a system that ensured that even the all assets would be available to every rank, so long as the situation demanded it, but I saw that this kind of system could work rather well.

Of course, I still needed to work on the other aspects of it, like the Void capable Warships, Fighters and Bombers, plus APCs, but that wouldn't take too long.

"Yes, Frida, you may. Tell the Forgers to start construction as soon as they are able and that they may put forwards their own designs for further vehicles to me when they believe that such designs are complete." I ordered as Frida bowed deeply, giving me a good view of her cleavage.

"By your will, it shall be done." She stated before turning and leaving the room, viewing that as her dismissal. I sighed as she left the room, running my hand through my hair...

I knew that the Aesir thought highly of me, but would it kill them to be just a little less formal? Even in private?

 **XXX**

Standing by the window of my room within Asgard, I couldn't help but enjoy the view. The entire surface of Yggdrasil was covered in layers of armored metal, Gellar Fields and even defenses to ensure that anyone trying to lay siege to the planet wouldn't be staying alive for long. There had been few attempts by Ork Warbands to try and take the planet, but those had all ended with the Orks getting blown to pieces before they even entered high orbit. However, that wasn't what held my interest, no, my interest was being held by the massive shipyard that was visible on the surface of the planet, revealing dozens of ships that were under construction with harsh, geometric designs, triangular patterns and covered with sliding hatches that would reveal anything from Macrocannons to Lancers to Neutron Beamers, Plasma Beams or anything else. The ships were armed based on the preferences of the Captains, or Wardens as they were being called.

The ships themselves were actually designs created by the Aesir, but I couldn't help but see them as replicas of the Vodyani from Endless space, only with their size altered to fit within the Warhammer universe. I didn't say a word of this to the Aesir, but I did compliment them on the designs of the ships, something that they seemed to consider as high praise, probably due to my own role as their creator, but I did wonder about why they had put so many damned statues of me, or murals of me, all over the place.

They said they were simply giving me the respect I deserved, I thought they were trying to worship the ground I walked, something that I didn't like the idea of at all. Taenera neither confirmed or denied it, even though I was tempted to order her to tell me, though I decided against it, even though I would have liked to learn what the hell she found so damned amusing.

"Enjoying the view...?" I heard the voice from behind me as I didn't turn around, half knowing what I would find due to hearing the mocking, innocent tone in her voice. It seemed the old saying was accurate, speak of the devil, and she shall appear...

"No more than you are." I replied non-committedly as I heard her chuckle at that, a moment later, I felt two hands slipping over my shoulders, slipping over my skin as I felt one hand moving under my T-shirt. I felt her press herself up against my back, feeling two mounds pressing into my back as I glanced to the side to see the face of Taenera smiling from its place on my right shoulder.

"Oh, I know... The view is utterly _Stunning..._ " She purred slightly as I felt her breath in my ear, a shiver running through my spin that I suppressed. I could feel her enjoyment at this little game through the bond, her making not attempts to hide it as I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her while she simply smirked, her hand moving around inside my shirt for a moment before it retreated. I heard soft foot steps before I glanced to the left to see Taenera standing in something other than her armor. I felt blood rush to my face as I saw what she was wearing.

It seemed that such things as modesty and decency were rather... _subdued_ concepts to the Eldar, even back then...

She was wearing a white dress, completely strapless and lacking any kind of material around her back, showing off plenty of her skin while the dress itself hugged her features like a second skin before flaring out around her waist and covering her legs. There was a long cut that went down from her waist to her ankles on her left side, the side she was showing me, that gave a good view of her long legs, which were currently wearing what could only be described as translucent-white, glass, high-heels that didn't seem to have anything holding them to her feet. Of course, the feature of that dress that would have drawn the eyes the most would have probably been the cut down the chest, going all the way to just above the waist while the dress itself turned strange, the two sides thinning before seeming to spiral around Taenera's breasts before stopping after covering her nipples, still showing off a hell of a lot of flesh between each spiral. Honestly speaking, if someone had worn that while walking down the street back in the 21st century, then I would honestly expect a lot of people to die of blood loss, probably through the nose primarily. Though, I would admit that the trails of random fabric coming from the waist were a bit odd, but my mind was rapidly taken over by thoughts of _other_ things...

At seeing this, one can understand my reaction, and it was clear that Taenera was expecting such a reaction, given her implish grin and amusement dancing in her eyes as she, well she sure as hell didn't walk, _stalked_ over to the window in front of me before leaning herself against the railing between the wall of transparent alloy and myself, crossing her arms under her breasts, but not pushing them up as it was unneeded, especially with that dress.

I looked at her with a deadpanned stare while trying my best to not look anywhere but her face, her hair allowed to flow freely in a cascade of black and red that would have covered half her face if she hadn't tucked it behind one ear.

She looked at me with a coy smile, a hungry stare and naked amusement dancing through the bond mixed with affection, I'll admit that it took me a while to notice it, but it was there.

"... You know, I really am starting to think that Humans and Eldar, even ones from your era, have a _very_ different definition of what we consider to be decent to wear around others and in public." I commented as Taenera's smile grew slightly with that, causing her to lean her hip to one side while placing her hand on it, drawing attention to her curves as I tried to stay focused on her face.

"Really? I would never have guessed, though, I thought that I'd try something a bit on the side of conservative. This outfit was supposed to be all the rage among the younglings of the Croneworlds, figured I wouldn't shock you too much with old Eldar fashion." She remarked as she leaned forwards, I saw the fabric around her breasts seem to stiffen as it pressed inwards, causing my eyes to flicker to them as soft, marshmallow-like flesh was squeezed between the spirals of fabric. I will admit that I had to work rather hard to suppress my immediately, bodily reaction to what she was doing to limited success as blood still flowed to my face, getting an even larger smile from her as I didn't try and meet her eyes, glancing off to the side, resulting in her expressing her amusement with a soft laugh.

"I _can_ order you to stop showing yourself off, you know." I reminded her, sending a mental prod through the bond, but was surprised at what I got in turn, instead of amusement at what I had said, along with the certainty that I wouldn't do such a thing, I found myself seeing nothing but happiness, fondness and what looked like a trace of affection.

"Oh, I know you wouldn't do that, Marcus, no need to keep saying it like you would..." She said as she stood from the railing, swaying her hips as she continued to stalk over to me before she stood right in front of me for a moment.

"You have had plenty of chances to bend me to your will, Marcus, chances to twist me into little more than a puppet. And, while I despair at such a fate, it would have been well within your right as my Master to do, especially if it gave me the chance to, at least, try and atone for the sins of my race." She said sadly as she leaned into my chest, her arms going around my neck as I felt her trying to shape herself to match the contours of my own body. "Instead, you let me remain as I was, something that I doubt any other of your kind would have allowed, you gave me a new body and treated me like an equal, even trying to get me to reverse what I had done in the creation of the Familiar bond when you discovered what I had done. You treated me not as a thing, but as a person..."

Slowly, she drew her hands back from around my neck as I watched her, her face pressed into my chest as I went to speak only to find myself caught out by what Taenera did next; She pushed me. I feel back, half expecting to land on my ass, but instead, I landed in a chair made of what I guessed was Wraithbone. Surprised by this turn of events, I barely had time to register Taenera suddenly appearing on my lap, her arms back around my neck while she looked at me with something in her eyes. With her in my lap, I was around eye level with her breasts, giving rather clear definition of the term 'eye-full'.

"And yet... You didn't. You treated me like just another warrior, the respect of equals, something I hadn't been expecting, especially after what I had seen my former Kin do to your people, both in the far past and the more recent past. I expected the worst, I resigned myself to and accepted what might happen to me, yet you chose to not do that, instead asking me to share what I was willing to teach you, asked for my opinions of things and even gave me a choice in how enhanced I wanted my new body to be rather than forcing the changes on to me." She said as she leaned down and gently kissed me on the forehead, pulling me just a bit closer as though she was trying to smother me with her breast even as I felt something grab my wrists, glancing down, I saw the strips of fabric from around her dress grabbing my hands, some grabbing individual fingers before pulling my arms up and around until I was practically grabbing her, admittedly brilliant, ass.

"Uh, that's great and all, Taenera, but what, exactly, are you doing?" I asked, rather unsure as to what the hell she had planned since, even with the bond, it could be rather tricky to figure out what the hell was going on inside Taenera's head. She merely offered an indulgent smile as she leaned a bit closer, moving her head down to next to my ear, hot breath tickling my skin.

"You have no idea how difficult it was, trying to stop myself from showing this, trying to restrain myself, but I don't think I can help it any longer, you certainly haven't helped yourself in that regard, Marcus..." She whispered softly into my ear as I went to ask what she meant by that before she pulled back up, a finger on my lips as she smiled once more, our noses practically touching.

"No, Marcus, no more questions... No more talking... Just relax... And let me handle the rest..." And then she removed the finger and moved forwards, smashing our lips together as I almost drew back in surprise once more from the action, but Taenera simply pulled herself closer to me, ensuring that neither of us broke the lip lock as I felt her start to grind her herself against my stomach. Mentally, I wondered just how dense I was and what I had done to win Taenera's affection, but pushed those thoughts to the side as my hands gripped her ass, squeezing it slightly and drawing gasps and moans from her as she, somehow, used pieces of her dress to encourage me to squeeze harder, pressing my fingers deeper into her own flesh as our tongues dueled between our lips and inside each other's mouths.

Before I lost the ability to thick for the night, however, one last though passed through my head.

Just how thick was I not to notice the, admittedly well-hidden, affection from Taenera after knowing her for over eighteen years...?

 **XXX**

"Today, we step forth from the cradle. Today, we are no longer contained to one world that we have fought for and bleed for, forged into an image that we are proud of and seek to improve at every turn." I started as I stood on a podium overlooking a grand hall, the hall itself was vast, filled with Sleipnir and Nidhug soldiers in full armor, vehicles and their crews, plus a few dozen Vanir who were floating around. The assembly was a celebration, of a kind, meant to announce a milestone of significant importance.

The completion of the first wave of warships that the Aesir had built.

Off to one side of the assembly hall, I saw the completed form of one such ship, meant to be the flagship of the First Fleet, a massive battleship over 22 kilometres long and covered Black Plate armor shaped like a mathematician's dream, armed with a tens of thousands of point defense weapons and a few dozen heavy weapons either mounted on retractable, broadside mounts or on turrets on the top of the ship. Yes, it made it seem like the bottom lacked any kind of protection, but that was a lie, the armor could retract in some places to reveal hangars and a few dozen missile launchers, plus the forward mounted torpedoes at the front of the dagger-like hull.

"This ship, and many others like it, will be the sword and shield of mankind, those that man them will have the greatest honor of being the first among us to reach into the Void, to look beyond this world and see all that the universe has to offer us, for better or for worse." I continued onwards, having the rapt attention of all that stood within the hall as I did so. Moving away from the Podium, I smiled to myself as I grabbed a bottle of Aesir Ale and carried out the christening of the ship, something that already happened on the other ships, usually done by the Captains of said ships, but it was decided that for some vessels, I would carry out the ceremony myself, even picking the names of those ships.

"And now, I christen thee..." I started as I threw the bottle at the hull, the bottle smashing off the hull with a resounding crack as a tarp of black was pulled down to reveal the name of the ship, engraved into the hull and highlighted in a shining gold with the statement about the ship below it. "The _Indomitable_! Unbroken, Undaunted and unstoppable!"

The statement was met with a resounding cheer, more than one might expect, but the Aesir loved ceremonies, so long as they were related to their warrior mentality, I watched as men and women immediately started to board the ship as those that weren't actually part of the crew or the onboard security detail continued to cheer. Some of those below me were already passing out bottles of ale, tossing them to other Aesir and even tossing some bottles to the people climbing onboard the massive ship.

"An interesting choice of name." I heard from behind me as I turned and smiled, seeing Taenera standing behind me, not wearing her armor, instead she chose to wear yet another set of clothes that seemed to have been crafted during her era, made from Wraithbone fibres and allowing her to control the material of her clothes with a thought. Today, it seemed, she had decided to be a bit more... _Daring_ , having tube-top that wrapped around her chest, revealing her stomach while pressing her breasts up, but with a cut straight down the middle of the top that made it rather difficult to look away. Aside from that, she was wearing a _very_ tight pair of butty shorts made from the same stuff, both were coloured the same bone white as all her clothes, but I knew she could change that if she really wished.

"I felt it rather good choice in names, a way of honoring the fallen and the ship they served on by creating another incarnation to carry on the legacy." I remarked as I smiled at her, she smiled back as she swayed over to me. Four years had passed since I found out how Taenera felt for me, and I had long since accepted it as yet another fact of life. We hadn't had sex yet though, that was for sure, but neither of us were in a hurry, not to mention the fact that Taenera seemed to have made it into a kind of game to see how long it would take to wear down my resistance, grab her then drag her to the nearest bed to have my way with her. I wanted to wait until she was comfortable with the idea, though she simply said that her opinion of it was irrelevant at this stage, I disagreed, which left us in the current situation.

"True enough, _Master..._ " She purred the title as she got closer, leaning in closer before planting the gentlest of kisses on my lips even as she ground her hips into mine and pressed her breasts into my chest, I felt a slip shift in the Warp as Taenera started drawing on it, using Biomancy to reshape her body, making her breasts bigger, softer but still as perky as before, easily going up a cup size from DD to an E, at least. In her mind, I could feel her affection, love and no small amount of lust, I smiled at that as my hands glided over her legs before cupping her ass in one hand, drawing a light moan from her and more lust as she tried to pull me closer as I smirked. Suddenly, a quick teleport and I was behind her as her eyes widened in surprise before she caught herself on the railings in front of her, turning to face me. My smirk hadn't moved a millimetre.

"Maybe next time..." I whispered as I leaned down to her, whispering in her ear as I saw her whole body shiver with lust and excitement. I pulled back before teleporting away, leaving Taenera alone as she found herself unable to get me to crack this day. Then again, I doubted that was going to be a problem for her as I felt her emotions through the bond, feeling excitement and love, not to mention a small amount of arousal at what I had done. Normally, I wouldn't have been able to notice such things, but our bond had long since she had expressed her true feelings, becoming what she described as a hybrid of a Lovers bond and a Familiar bond. The Familiar bond I was quite familiar with, but the Lovers bond was something else, it was a bond that apparently opened the minds of two lovers completely to one another, something the Eldar had done as a way of confirming the equivalent of marriage between the two of them. It meant that they could keep no secrets from one another, allowing them to see each other's minds as they wished and in real-time regardless of distances.

However, the bond I had with her was different to that, both due to the already present Familiar bond and due to Humans, even Primarchs, lacking the Psychic acuity of the Eldar, even compared to the modern day Eldar who were, apparently, pale shadows of an Eldar's real power. Simply put, it opened her mind completely to me, with no way for her to hide her thoughts, feelings or memories from me.

It was an ultimate showing of how much she trusted me not to abuse it since the bond bypassed all of her defenses, letting me take complete control of her at any time.

Frankly, that was one of the reasons I put off having sex with her, mainly because, regardless of how attractive she was, I still felt like I was influencing her into doing something that, under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have done.

And that terrified me to no end.

 **XXX**

Taenera looked at the spot that spot where Marcus had stood mere moments ago and grinned. It was always fun to see how he would react, his continued attempts to resist her charms were something that she found endlessly amusing and attractive, if only because he seemed to hold himself to a high moral code when compared to the rest of the beings in the Forsaken, Hell-realm that was this Galaxy. He would not do anything that went against this code, he would tolerate others doing it, if only as a matter of practicality within a given situation, but outside of that, he would cut them down without a second thought.

Still, she knew he was reaching the end of his tether, and she couldn't wait for it.

Even if the bond was not as total on his end, it still allowed her to see much beyond his defenses, it allowed her to see how he thought of her and what he found attractive about her. It was something she had been using to her advantage since the moment that she had finally decided to express herself to him, getting more and more blatant as time went on, especially given her choice of clothing. However, the one thing that amused her the most was that Marcus believed that the bond was influencing her to do something she would normally have been unwilling to do. Shaking her head as she let out a snort, she still found that amusing.

"Oh, Marcus... You still have much to learn..." She muttered softly to herself, knowing a lot more about the subject that her Human Master and knowing that, while a Familiar bond _did_ influence the Familiar, that was only to the point that they would stand by their Master and obey his commands when, or if, they were given. Marcus had never exercised that portion of the bond he had with her, meaning that she had never been influenced by him besides his personality and actions sweeping her off her feet. Not only that, but she had been a warrior fighting on the frontlines of a millennia spanning war against unliving machines, knowing that death could come at any moment and her Spirit Stone might not be enough to save her from being reduced to either a battery for a Necron weapon, or a snack for their C'tan masters. Casual sex and one-night stands had long since become the norm for many of the more experienced of the Eldar Warriors, with the recruits rapidly joining in after surviving even a single engagement.

"Still, no matter how much you try, I'll get the prize in the end... Of that, Marcus, you can be sure..." The former Eldar whispered to herself as a pair of fingers traces over her lips even as they curved into a seductive smile that would have reduced grown men to nothing but mounds of putty for her to do as she pleased with. Slowly, a number of new ideas started to come to her mind as she stalked away from the assembly hall, a slight bounce in her step that did interesting things to her body.

"Maybe I could enlist Frida to help...? I know that she has been eying Marcus for a while... Might be interesting for his first time to be a threesome." Taenera smirked at the thought, if anything, she had millennia of seducing others into her bed from during her off-duty time during the war, convincing a single Aesir to help her seduce a man that she already held affection for would be a piece of cake.

All was coming together just as she planned...

 **XXX**

AN: Well, not the most action-packed of chapters, but every story needs stuff like this to allow for plot progression. Hope you enjoyed it and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	6. Into the Void

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, here is the next chapter of the story, hope it manages to reach the same standards as the rest of the story. However, as a warning, there is a sex scene near the end, I've got no idea how good it is, but I hope it ruin the chapter for anyone.

Also, in answer to a few questions: It is rather easy to turn a Human into an Aesir, all you need to do is give the Human the same augments as the Aesir, who get them at birth, and there you have it. Not to mention the fact that those same augments were DAoT augments from their Void Marines with a few upgrades. As for the alternative FTL, that goes without saying, it won't be happening straight away, but it will happen.

Anyway, on with the show!

 **XXX**

For those that think space is empty, they are quite mistaken.

Currently, the Void of space was being filled with dozens of colourful beams of energy, bullets the size of small apartment buildings, torpedoes mounted on rocket engines and what looked like oversized missiles with little green men with big noses steering them, seemingly unaware of the one-way trip they were on. Ork vessels, ram-shackled hulks covered in badly welded together pieces of metal and powered by engines that were only being kept from exploding by the constant work of the Mekboys and the Waaagh!, filled the Void as they raced from their moorings. The Ork vessels had been parked at an Ork Roc, hidden in an asteroid belt and with multiple asteroids chained together to make a massive complex that nearly surrounded a large Gas Giant at the outer edge of the system. Truthfully, it was one of only four other celestial bodies in the system, excluding the young, yellow star itself. The two closest ones were tiny hunks of rock, both were constantly being blasted by solar radiation to such an extreme that even the Orks wouldn't have been able to call the planet 'home'.

The remaining world was Yggdrasil.

With the Aesir finally reaching into space, they had decided that, as a first step, they would secure their home system and purge it of all threats. As such, a fleet composed of one Battleship, four Cruisers, six Destroyers and twenty Corvettes, it was a sizeable force for the Aesir, the combined effort of the entire race put into one location and concentrated against the Orks. If an Imperial Admiral had seen this, however, he would have despaired, seeing as the Orks had over a dozen Kill Krozers, Terror ships and any number of other spacehulks and looted ships that had been 'Kustomised' by the Greenskins.

In a fair fight, the Aesir would have lost, in a slugging match, they would have lost, if only due to being outnumbered by at least two orders of magnitude.

Seeing the Aesir fleet, the Orks charged, sensing the chance for a good fight, ships blasted their own moorings and raced through the void, screaming through their Vox systems and singing war songs, chanting their ever-predicable warcry over open channels as loudly as they could.

If that same Imperial Admiral had seen this, he would have commented on the arrogance and stupidity of the Aesir commander for not withdrawing. Seeing it as nothing more than a waste of Human lives to achieve nothing but attracting the attention of the Greenskins.

However, he would be wrong about one thing.

This was not going to be a fair fight.

Across the Battleship in the centre of the formation, hexagonal hatches opened across it as short-barrelled cannons slowly appeared from them, filling the holes before they fired, too far to be accurate, had they been firing shells. Instead, each cannon fired bursts of twenty objects into the void, each object looking like a three-dimensional plus sign with two cubes at the front and back before each cube-like pylon shifted, extending outwards as spike-like feelers extended further. The whole line of these objects curved their path until they placed themselves between the Orks and the Aesir fleets, their lines flipping to present a massive screen of the objects that only grew thicker and thicker with each moment until the massive screen was tens of thousands of objects across and at least twenty layers deep. Not seeing anything wrong with this, simply seeing some kind of rubbish wall, the Orks advanced, the vanguard speeding ahead as Fighta-Bommas launched hastily from hangars, swarming through the void.

Until they reached the objects.

The first ship that tried to enter the screen of objects died a moment later, not from weapons fire, but from these objects as several launched themselves at the Ork vessel, slamming into hull plating before detonating, their explosive charges having been directed inwards due to the very nature of the void as the ship broke apart moments later, secondary explosions filling the void. Suddenly, space exploded into action as the screen of objects suddenly raced forwards, shifting into a massive wave of tendrils that threw themselves at the approaching Orks, detonating with every impact as it only took a few to destroy a single vessel, and the Aesir had launched countless thousands of them without difficulty.

And were still launching more as some were being used up.

The Dumber Orks, only seeing a good fight, just opened fire on the tendrils of objects, firing everything they had as they laughed loudly even as their ships were destroyed around their ears. They were wiped out in minutes as they had rushed so far ahead as to be a separate group from the rest of the Ork ships in the system, they were, as a result, wiped out in minutes. The Smarter Orks, had sat back and watched what had happened, learning slightly as they saw how the objects moved, first protectively, then aggressively before they had retreated back to a defensive position around their launching ships. Seeing this, the Ork ships assembled themselves into a crude spear-like formation before hitting the big red button in the bridge of every ship, engaging maximum thrust.

However, these Orks had some grasp of tactics as they formed a shell around their ships, Fighta-Bomma spiralling around the much larger vessels to act as protection under the guise of who could race around the ships the fastest. Grot Bombs were also launched, hitting the objects before they had a chance to impact the vessels as the objects themselves raced towards the ram-shackled Ork vessels, destroying many, but some still managed to get through the screens.

That put them well within range of the Aesir fleet.

With the objects, really just self-guided, semi-intelligent space mines, having taken a majority of the Ork fleet, the Aesir opened fire, taking out what few ships made it through the screen of death that was killing them by the dozens. Suddenly, armored blast shields slide open across the fleet to reveal massive weapons as turrets rotated to acquire their targets.

The first salvo was fired as one.

Lances of bright blue energy raced through the Void, Neutron energies impacting crudely made shields before causing them to shatter from the sheer amount of energy being pumped into a rather small area of said shields, thanks to very good, networked targeting. Missiles launched in massive waves, looking like clouds of burning ashes falling away from the hulls of these vessels before sprinting through space, moving far faster than they should, the missiles targeted the Strike Craft scattered around the massive ships, intent on stripping away any lingering protections that the Ork fleet might have before massive Torpedoes came, their thrusters burning like stars as they neared pre-determined targets. As the distance was closed, the Torpedoes gave one last burst of thrust that propelled them towards their targets, engines cutting out moments later as they allowed the laws of the ancient Isaac Newton to show themselves as the Torpedoes slammed into the hulls of the Ork ships, drilling through armor plating before nothing happened for a moment.

Suddenly, a hundred miniature stars were born before dying out, leaving behind the burned remains of a dozen ships as more continued to fall to the Neutron Lances of the Aesir

From start to finish, the entire engagement lasted less than hour, with it only dragging out that long due to sheer distance between the targets and those firing at them. With the ships gone, the Aesir moved in, weapons primed as they took aim at the collection of space habitats that the Orks were living within.

They disappeared in the blink of an eye.

 **XXX**

Looking over the latest reports from the, so far, small First Fleet, Frida smiled as she saw that the system had been secured and was now under Aesir control. Though, she did see the notes about that merely being the obvious signs of Xenos presence, they would have to conduct a more thorough search at a later date when they had the vessels needed to cover such a vast amount of space. Already, a few had been considering ideas for how to solve such an issue in the most cost effective manner. Some were advocating the use of large scale Hunter mines like those that had been used against the Orks, simply releasing vast numbers of them and programming them to scour the system for anything that lacked an Aesir IFF code. If it was Xenos, it would be attacked while ancient Human wrecks would be marked for recovery and examination by the Great Father.

Frida stopped what she was doing for a moment as she sat in front of her desk, the holographic displays paused in an image of the battleship, the _Indomitable_ , firing upon the Ork Rocs with the Neutron Lances mixed with other weapons like Plasma Beams and Railguns. She paused as she glanced over to the other wall of her room, seeing a painting that she had acquired from an Aesir who painted in her free time, it was a picture from the Ork Purge of Yggdrasil, showing the Great Father, clad in full armor and wielding both his sword and powers to cut down a greentide. The picture was good, especially given the detail put into the painting and how it seemed to have dozens of small points of interest. The Great Father, during the engagement, had cut down many Orks, shown by the bodies of the Orks falling to the ground or already littering the ground, steam rising from the bodies while others were charred black.

Frida smiled at that. Their creator was skilled and wielded great power fitting of his skills, he had forged them from nothing, giving life to what was, effectively, lifeless in the beginning. Many were already taking about turning their great respect and admiration for him into something more, it wasn't really surprising since many already quietly worshiped him, treating him as a divine being. It honestly just seemed... _Right_ to think of him like that, something that only grew easier to accept with time as they saw his great feats of technical skill, his prowess with a blade or gun and his ability to lead and command.

Many wanted to use all of that to lay the foundations for an actual, official religion with him as the central icon of the faith. Honestly, Frida was rather partial to that idea, though, she was more concerned about what form it would take. They knew the Great Father, they knew of his disinterest in anything pompous and grand, preferring to say what needed to be said and getting it out of the way, his speeches, though short, were impactful, and his choice of weapons and armor was always well made, but lacking decorations beyond a single symbol that he seemed to have take as his own. It was an upside down triangle, shattered into pieces and with a single piece, engraved with more detail, floating away. They had asked him once what it meant, he said that it was to symbolise something new being birthed from the ruins of the old. It had quickly become something of a holy symbol among the Aesir, as none dared wear it without the Great Father's express permission.

Suddenly, Frida was brought out of her thoughts as the door chime went off to her room. Raising a brow, she connected to the door and saw that it was the Herald, Taenera, standing on the other side with an innocent smile on her face. Smiling back, Frida opened the door in turn, letting her friend in as she took in the sight of the former Eldar.

Aesir didn't care all that much about appearances, merely the ability of someone to fight and protect themselves, they found physical fitness to be attractive along with normal physical attraction and personality. For Humans, a date with your girlfriend would have been taking them for a meal out, for Aesir, a normal date was spending time together at a gym or sparring with one another, even bonding over weapons and battlefield experiences. Frida and Taenera had rapidly bonded over favoured weapon techniques and drinks after a good fight, occasionally sparring with one another even if Taenera was holding back rather significantly.

Today, as she watched the Former Eldar step into her home, she was wearing what looked like a tight fitting dress that went down to her mid-thighs and hugged her like a second skin, backless and sideless with the white dress wrapping around her hips and waist before a single strip of material ran up her chest, between her impressive breasts before carrying on and wrapping around her neck. Two pieces of stiffened fabric also came out from the central piece, covering her breasts so as not to appear indecent, at least, by Human standards. Aesir cared very little about the state of dress of another, especially since communal bathing was an aspect of their society, it was optional, but most did it to help build relationships with those that they would go into battle with.

"Taenera. This is a rather big surprise, what have I done to require this visit?" Frida asked as she stood from her chair and walked over to her friend, sharing a hug with her as she stepped in and allowed the door to close behind her.

"Sorry, Frida, I was in the area and figured that it would be nice to visit before I went off again." Taenera stated as she smiled slightly. "Well, that, and because there was something I was planning and I was wondering if you'd like to help with it. Interested?" Frida raised an eyebrow at that, her expression going neutral at that.

"That depends on what the task is." Frida replied neutrally back as she gestured for them to take a seat at a pair of chairs. Taenera smiled at that as she took a seat, crossing her legs over in such a way to attract attention. It was a trick that Frida knew worked rather well, as seen when the younger members of the Aesir stepped into a bar and immediately found themselves unable to look away, even Frida had trouble with not being able to look away from time to time.

"Well, as I'm sure your aware, the Great Father has been working rather excessively ever since your people were born, even afterwards, even with your help, he has not slowed down the pace of his work by even a fraction. I've been trying to get him to... _Relax_ and... _Relieve_ him of his stress from working so hard, but, as you can imagine, the Great Father is not one for remaining idle for a moment. So far, every attempt I've made to try and get him to... _Rest_ has been deflected, ignored or avoided by him, but I'm sure he is close to the end of his tether in what he can do. I need your help to get him to just sit down and let us help... _Release_ his _stress_." Taenera spoke, putting an odd emphasis on some words as Frida thought about it for a moment, it wouldn't do for the Great Father to be under so much stress, better he take some time to relax and leave the work in the hands of the Aesir.

"Very well, and how do you propose that we would do this?" She asked, slightly curious as she had also learned much about the Great Father, partly due to an interest shared with all Aesir, and partly for herself, because she found herself wishing to get closer to him, to learn more about him and wishing to share the same kind of closeness that she had seen between the Great Father and Taenera when she first woke up. Taenera, in response to that question, grinned impishly at her.

"We would have sex with him, of course." Taenera stated as Frida's eyes shot wide, she suddenly sputtered as her mind went blank.

"I!? Wha!? But tha-!" She started, but never finished as Taenera got up and walked over to her, putting a hand on to her shoulder and pressing a finger to Frida's lips to silence her.

"Shush you... Now, listen." Taenera commanded as Frida took several seconds to calm down before Taenera continued to speak, placing both hands on the shoulders of the Aesir. "Now, I know that you might want to try and deny it, But I've known for quite a while that you've been holding a candle for the Great Father."

Frida froze at that, having never told anyone of that, yes, she was sure that a great many female Aesir nursed similar infatuations towards the Great Father, but none would be so foolish as to tell another about such a thing. Yet, now she found herself in the nightmare situation of her deepest secret being known to another, to Taenera, which made it even worse since she could easily tell the Great Father. Frida stilled as she could barely find her breath as such a thought, however, she didn't manage to finish that thought as fingers pressed into her shoulders as her body went slack from pleasure as Taenera started massaging her shoulders with both hands.

"Calm. Calm down, Frida, I'm not going to tell anyone, but I still want your help with this. Trust me, it will all work out in the end, you have my word on that." Taenera spoke softly to her as she continued to kneed the Aesir's shoulders, drawing a slight moan of contentment from her as she spoke, her mind slightly clouded by just how _good_ the massage felt.

"... Sure... Just... Oh yeah, right there..." She spoke as she closed her eyes, unable to see the seductive, yet impish grin on the face of the woman behind her. Slowly, Taenera continued to massage her friend as one hand slowly slide down from the shoulder.

"Great! Now, let me tell you what we are going to do..." She said as her hand slipped under Frida's clothing, her hand sliding over the Aesir's breasts before kneading it, drawing yet more gasps from the Aesir as Taenera started to lay out her plan, squeezing Frida's breasts ever now and then throughout the entire process.

Needless to say, it was a good thing that all Aesir rooms were made to be soundproof as a matter of course.

 **XXX**

"Warp transition successful, we have returned to real space, Great Father." I heard as I nodded from my command throne aboard my flagship, the _Invictus_ , the thing was a 35 kilometre long monster of Black Plate, hidden weapons and enough firepower to shatter a planet. I still found it both awesome and conveient that the Aesir had decided to make their ships with the same aesthetics as the Vodyani from Endless Space 2, even the Dreadnought, which I found great enjoyment of commanding.

"Well done, Vanir Svanrun, pass my appreciation on to your cohort as well. Sensors. Begin a full scan of the system, have the fleet spread out to investigate anything of interest, but have them inform me before they go off in search of anything. This may have been a Human system before the Warp Storms shattered our methods of communication and FTL, but we don't know what could have move in while the colony was isolated." I remarked as I looked around, noting a hologram displaying the fleet, and what a big damned fleet it was.

Seeing as this was the first expedition from the Home system, usually called Midgard, it was decided to go with an oversized fleet, with, including my Dreadnought, four Battleships, twenty Cruisers, forty Destroyers and ninety Corvettes. It was overkill of the highest order when compared to the individual power of each Aesir ship, but that was more to do with being careful as to what we might find. I was just glad that this hadn't been rushed and the Aesir had taken the time to double the Void Navy, keeping half of them back in Midgard for the time being while the rest were with me.

Not bad, going from effectively nothing to having a star-fairing empire inside of 25 years, then again, I tended to cheat like a motherfucker.

"Great Father! We are picking something up around the third planet. Putting it on screen now." I heard the sensor operator and nodded to her, difficult to tell without a connection to the ODIN Field or my abilities due to her wearing her full armor, others were as well, but most of them had forgone their helmets for the time being, allowing them to be retracted back into their collars for more room to breathe. That wouldn't be the case for during combat, but we hadn't entered combat.

Yet.

My face turned hard as I turned to the projection within the CIC of my ship, buried deep within the core of the vessel. It showed the solar system as it was, six planets, two of them too close to the sun to sustain life while, of the other four, only one could sustain Human life due to the other three being dead rocks with no atmosphere or simply having one that, according to sensor readings, was composed primarily of Hydrogen Cyanide, all surrounding a yellow star. Mentally, I wondered how that was possible to happen in nature, but put it to one side as the view focused on the third planet in the system.

It was a rather small planet, maybe just a bit smaller than Earth by about a thousand kilometres, but it was covered by a single ocean and a single land mass, a supercontinent that seemed to be shaped like a massive crescent on one side of the planet with absolutely nothing on the other side. Around it, I saw a single moon which, in turn, seemed to have an asteroid belt around it, odd, but this was 40K I had my doubts that it would be the oddest thing I'd ever see while in this hell-hole. However, what really caught my eye was a small object, a satellite in high orbit made from what looked like stone, bone and cobwebs with a baneful red glow coming from the side facing the planet. I narrowed my eyes at that, not liking that glow in the least as I threw my mind into the Great Ocean.

Post-cognition, Technomany, Biomancy and a specialised type of Divining might have been my bread and butter, but I did have some skill in other areas. I focused mainly on Telekinesis, Telepathy, Teleportation and Pyrokinesis, but I also had a bit of skill with Pre-cognition. I primarily used it in battle since I could only see a minute ahead of myself, but when not in battle, I could see at least an hour ahead, not very useful in the long term, but the short term advantage such a skill gave me in a fight was beyond precious. Closing my eyes, I looked into the Warp.

What I found angered me to no end.

I saw the weapon fire, a beam of bright red heading for the planet followed closely by the death-screams of a few hundred thousand souls, Human souls. I felt a malevolent hunger and hatred for all those not of its kind and I saw images, vague pictures of what looked like Humans, or Human-like figures, being dragged off by large, bipedal insects with blue carapace, six multi-jointed arms that each ended in a two clawed grasping appendage. I saw the fate of those that were dragged away, seemingly brought to a large tower made of cobwebs before being cocooned in webs. I grimaced at what I saw would follow, my Post-cognition taking over and showing me the fate of a thousand generations, being tortured for the sack of torture, experimented on, injected with what looked like egg sacks only for the young to burst out from the injected and even being ripped apart and eaten alive by these Xenos. I felt my anger grow at that, seeing the image of one of them laughing as one figure tried to stay alive even as the Xenos young were eating their way out of his guts, even as he screamed and cursed and begged for it to end, it didn't thanks to the Xenos corrupted technology.

"Open fire on that Satellite! Do not let it reach full charge! Helm! Full acceleration towards the planet below it, I don't care if you burn the damned engines out, we are going there. _Now!_ " I ordered, my voice thundering through the air as I felt the psychic shock and awe from the Vanir Navigators, feeling my power even as it whipped around me like a hurricane in response to my emotions. Slamming my hand down on the armrest of my command throne with enough force to almost break it, I snarled as a thought-command activated the communications systems to address the whole fleet.

"Attention! This is Marcus Grimm, I want each ship to prepare its ground compliments and stand at battle stations! We are now approaching a Human colony world that has been subjected to twisted and sadistic Xenos. Give no quarter and hold no remorse, for their deserve none." I snarled as I stood up, turning off the communication systems as I felt acknowledgements bombard my mind before I shifted them to one side, looking around the CIC to see everyone getting ready for a fight. Helmets were being sealed, life support was being turned off, as was artificial gravity to save on power, I turned to the 2IC of the ship, Warden Saekell.

"Warden. You have command of the fleet." I stated as I stood up, already heading for the exit of the CIC as my intentions were already clear as day to all those in the room.

"As you command, Great Father."

 **XXX**

Tig'ra stared up at the glow of the Dread Star with no small amount of fear as it slow got brighter and brighter. Tears slowly dripping down her face as she lay next to the corpse of her father, who had been killed after ripping three of the Cruel Hard Ones apart after one of them tried to take her. She had screamed and her father had rushed out to save her, having been just in time to see one of them trying to pull her away with six strong arms. Without thinking, her father had rushed over, plunging a sword into one, ripping the head off another before cracking the chest of the third before one with a Thunder stave had attacked, blowing a hole through his chest. Others had seen this happen and, soon, the entire settlement was aflame with riots against the Cruel Hard Ones.

Until it stopped. It stopped when they all gazed upwards and saw the Dread Star glowing, knowing what that meant as one of the Cruel Hard Ones came forwards, clutching a staff of bone in one claw while it's body was covered in a shell engraved with lots of drawings and bits of writing.

"So have you defied us." It spoke, it's voice coming out with a strange chittering tone that served to underline how different they were, how... _Other_. "And so you shall burn for your defiance under the gaze of the Dread Star."

Following that, a Lightning wall had sprung up around the settlement, the Cruel Hard Ones having left as the light of the Dread Star only grew. None tried to escape, knowing that it would be a futile gesture, at best, as they would simply be hunted down and slaughtered, dying an even worse death than that of _Cattle_. The thought galled her and every other Felinid on Obros, none liked it, many tired to fight it, but it all ended the same way; With those that had fought being slaughtered and dragged back to the Palace of Webs and Screams.

"I will see you soon, Father..." Tig'ra whispered softly to herself as she kneeled next to the corpse of her father, accepting what might happen next as she gazed up at the Dread Star, knowing what would soon come.

But it never came.

A flash of blue light that eclipsed the red of the Dread Star shun through the sky, overloading the malevolent like before blasting it from the sky in a blinding light that drew the attention of all that saw it. Everyone, even the Cruel Hard Ones, looked to the sky for one reason or another.

For the Felinids like Tig'ra, it was a beautiful sight as the symbol of their subjugation and enslavement, of their humiliation was blasted from the darkness of the night's sky as though it was nothing. Around the Lightning wall, as Felinids roared their approval and excitement to the stars, the Cruel Hard Ones grew nervous, looking from side to side as they held their thick Thunder Staves in multiple claws. Tig'ra felt her mouth twist into a cruel smirk as she and many others felt that their chances of a final victory against the Cruel Hard Ones had just increased. However, before any of them could act, they watched as a fallen star came from the heavens and landed behind the Cruel Hard Ones, it's landing shaking the ground as smoke trailed behind it and from the crater. The Cruel Hard Ones advanced on the crater, weapons at the ready as Felinids watched with interest, Tig'ra having moved to the roof of one of the nearby buildings to get a better look.

What happened next would be recorded and celebrated throughout the rest of their history, an event so profound that it would change their entire civilizations and fill them with courage and inspire them to new heights.

Suddenly, from the smoke, came a massive figure with a similar shape as a Felinid, clad in armor of the darkness black and eyes that glared at the Cruel Hard Ones with utter hatred. In the figure's hand was a sword, as tall as any man and unusually shaped, but none could deny its effectiveness as the Star Warrior rushed the guards of the Cruel Hard Ones. Within moments, a dozen of their number lay dead, either cut to piece or crushed under a monstrous strength that belied the figures size, even if he was taller than most of the men she had seen in her life.

Watching now, she saw as the figure held the last Cruel Hard One up by its throat with one hand, another show of strength as the arm did not waver while the Cruel Hard One tried futilely to escape, it's claws doing nothing against the shadow-plate that clad this warrior. With a responding crunch, the shell was broken as the Cruel Hard One dropped to the ground, it's neck now noticeably thinner and with a hand print visible.

Then it turned to them.

Red eyes looked at them with what could only be described as happiness and determination as it walked over to one of the stone boxes were the Lightning wall was projected from before stabbing it with its sword. Sparks and flames billowed out of the box before the Lightning Wall flickered and died, the moment that the wall dropped, the warriors threw something at one of the bare-chested men that lay at the edge of the wall. Catching it out of instinct, Tig'ra saw that the thing that had been thrown at the Felinid was one of the Thunder staves of the Cruel Hard Ones. Looking between the weapon and the being, many didn't know what to do before the being spoke.

"This world is yours." It said, it's voice deep with flowing emotions, and only a deaf man wouldn't have been able to hear the hate and rage contained under a sea of calm, cold fury. "Now... It's time to take it back."

The words were simple, plain even, but the sheer and determination behind it made everyone feel as though they _could_ do it, men stood taller and wore cocky smirks as they nodded, the Warrior nodded back as it seemed to turn and look up. Following it's gaze, they looked up to see more falling stars, more Star Warriors that were coming. Soon, it looked like the night sky was alive with them as they impacted the ground with no hesitation before getting back up and standing tall, weapons in hand.

"And we... Shall see that you succeed."

Tig'ra smiled at that, if just one of this beings could slaughter the Cruel Hard Ones in droves...

... Then what could an army of them do...?

 **XXX**

Looking around, I smirked as I looked onwards. It had been easy to push the Xenos back, especially since they used rather primitive weapons, a gunpowder equivalent mixed with an oxygenating agent to let them fire in a vacuum with a few rare Laser weapons through into the mix. The Felinids native to this planet were, among other things, determined if nothing else, they kept up with my forces well and showed just how determined they were when they fought like devils to kill the Xenos. I had actually seen three of them go berserk and start ripping into the Xenos with claws and teeth, one of them looked to be a girl in her twenties, one looked like a pregnant mother and the other was a guy standing around 2.35 metres tall, barrel-chested with thick slabs of muscle and lion-like mane of hair over his head.

That last one had been impressive to watch, if only because he had ripped one of the Xenos right down the middle with his bare hands/claws before using their arms as weapons to beat a few dozen others to death. It had been impressive to watch, much less so when he nearly died from a few dozen wounds he had taken during the course of his rage, but I would have said it was a worthy trade off since he was still alive and 52 Xenos weren't.

 _"All forces advance. These Xenos die before this day is out, not a second later."_ I commanded through the ODIN Field before I switched channels to another one. _"Deploy the Grendals."_

A moment later, the Grendals were in the fight.

The Grendals were machines controlled by ODIN and capable of doing a shit load of damage on their own. Each one of them was based on the Hashmal from Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans and equipped with similar weapons in the form of Transonic blades, Power Fields, two Heavy Las-talons, Plasma Beams and a nano-fabricator in each 'arm' that let it produce Goblins, which were based on the Pluma from the same show. Both of these machines were painted black and trimmed with grey and silver, all standing over five metres tall and very dangerous due to their own self-repair abilities and because of the fact that each one came with a swarm of Goblins that each carried a pair of Power Field-sheathed Transonic blades, one for each claw arm, and their drill had been replaced by a stinger that used nanites to tear its target apart as well as gather raw materials. Each Goblin was about the size of a Space Marine's backpack, had anti-grav abilities and, when not being used to gather resources, could be used as a semi-intelligent mobile mine with a smart charge capable of blowing up a tank.

I will admit that I smirked viciously when I saw the first twenty Grendals land, their arms unfolding as a few dozen Goblins suddenly piled out, thirty from each machine as ten started digging into the ground beside each machine while the rest of them charged at the hastily made fortifications of the 'Palace of Webs and Screams'. I smiled at that as I turned to see one of the ones who I knew to be a leader among his people, all of them were physically fit, strong and their eyes glinting in intelligence.

"Tell me, do you know how flammable those webs are?" I asked as I approached one of the leaders, the group of people around them looking confused while he blinked in confusion himself.

"Flammable? Well, we never managed to test it, but the fresh stuff I know for a fact will go up in flames and burn just as harshly as a wildfire." I nodded as I turned to look at the massive spire of webs, stone and skeletal remains.

"Good. Then tell me, how much would you like to see that spire go up in flames?" I asked. The vicious and bloodthirsty grins I got in return were answer enough.

 **XXX**

Tig'ra would admit it, she was grinning like an idiot at the beautiful sight before her.

The Palace of Webs and Screams set ablaze.

Kneeling down, she offered a silent prayer to those that had died in that nightmare infested place before looking back up, smiling as she saw the sky-chariots of the Star Warriors, or Aesir as they had called themselves. They had promised to help, promised to help rebuilt their world until it reached the level of being on par with what they had before the Great disaster millennia ago, before the Cruel Hard Ones had come, promised to help protect them from the things that crawled through the void between stars. Tig'ra could believe it, especially after all that the Aesir had done for them.

Kil'rov, as the Settlement leader, had already sent out runners to the only other settlements, four in total, saying that the nightmare was finally over, even going so far as to say that they would rise back to the level of their forefathers and would gain allies in the form of the Aesir. That last one technically wasn't true since they now owed the Aesir a debt that simply would refuse to be paid, their honour not allowing it since the Aesir, simply by existing, had given them back both their hope and their future. This meant that they would willingly submit once it was brought up during future 'talks' with the Aesir. Regardless, traditions had to be observed and respected, as such, there were talks of a bride, servant or mistress being provided to the leader of the Aesir in tribute and as a peace offering. It was an old tradition that dated back millennia, back to the time when they were not as united as they were now, it was a way of getting warring clans to become allies rather quickly, and it would now serve a far more meaningful purpose as it would take them back to the stars.

Needless to say, Tig'ra was the first one to volunteer for such a duty.

 **XXX**

 **[LEMON AHEAD!]**

I sighed as I entered my personal chambers within the _Invictus_ , closing the door behind me as I took of my armor and stored it in a compartment next to my bed, my sword leaning against the backboard by my pillow, leaving me in a thin, near-skin tight, one-piece body suit that I quickly took off to leave me in my boxers before I went for a shower. Stepping into the bathroom, I turned the water on, a luxury in space due to my own position while I turned it hotter until I was satisfied with it, though, had a normal Human been in it, they would have burned themselves significantly. Stepping into the shower, I sighed in contentment as I felt the warm water running over my skin, it helped to clear my head and get rid of my exhaustion, though, I wasn't physically exhausted, since I got by with only a few hours of sleep each week, no, I needed something to get rid of my mental exhaustion.

I had just gotten out of a conversation with the Felinid leaders who, apparently, believed that since my people had effectively given the Felinids hope again, along with a future in the stars, then they should serve the Aesir as, effectively, a vassal state. No government of their own and would simply obey the whims of the Aesir, not only that, but they believed that since this was going to happen, that _I_ needed to get gifted with a young woman of their race as the method of sealing the contract. At first, I had tried to argue with them that such measures weren't necessary, that they should stand as equals with the Aesir, but it seemed that the Felinids were a lot more stubborn than I thought. It took fifteen hours for me to finally accept that they weren't going to budge on the matter and let things be, no matter how much I disliked it.

They, of course, were ecstatic about it all, even saying that I could 'take more than one mate with you to seal the deal', I refused, but just the sheer fact they had said as much had me resigned to what to expect out in the rest of the Galaxy if Humans had degraded to what was, effectively ancient civilizations. The Felinids of Obros actually were rather similar to ancient china, if only due to the style of their buildings, though, they did have other factors thrown into the mix.

"The only easy day was yesterday..." I muttered to myself as I let the water flow down on to my head. I closed my eyes and relaxed for a moment before I felt something off in the room.

"Then how about we help you relax a bit, huh, _Master?_ " I snapped my eyes open and turned around as I heard that all too familiar voice before I paused, my eyes widening and I felt my jaw drop slightly, though, because of my surprise, I wasn't able to immediately suppress my physical reaction to what was before me.

Taenera, standing in what could only be described as a bikini and thong with the bikini made from thin strips of Wraithbone fabric that looked like a spider's web and _barely_ covered her nipples while her thong barely even did _that_ much as I got an eyeful. Her hair was down and she had one hip cocked to one side, a seductive smirk in place on her lips while her eyes glinted with what I could identify as predatory hunger, arousal, lust and love, mixed with a bit of amusement as I saw her eyes crawl over my body.

"Well, it seems someone is happy to see me." She remarked with a giggle as I became intimately aware of how hard my dick was, I gave her a deadpanned stare in return.

"And whose fault is that?" I shot back as I raised an eyebrow at that. "I thought you wanted to stay back at Yggdrasil? Something about doing some research of your own?" I asked, wanting to knew just what the hell was going on as Taenera giggles once more.

"Well, _Master_ , I was looking into a few things to prove that, for one, you were not actually influencing me into loving you, though, I suppose that is relative since you still managed to get me to this point simply by being you. And, well, the second bit was mostly to see about getting a helper." I raised an eyebrow at that.

"A hel-Ooohh Damn..." I started, but it disappeared into a series of blissful grunts and words as I suddenly lost track of what I was saying as I looked down to see my hardened dick sticking out from between Taenera's two massive tits, both were utterly massive as she pressed them against my prick with a coy smirk as I grunted and mewed about, leaning against the wall behind me for support as she gently rubbed her chest up and down my dick.

"Oh my, _Master_ , it looks like you were really excited to see me... I can't imagine why..." She spoke quietly as she started rubbing my shaft up and down, her breasts going alternating directions as my prick was swallowed by the twin mountains of soft flesh. I occasionally saw my dick appearing from under her massive, E-cup tits, where she would give it a quick lick before it was submerged once more by yet another pile of flesh.

"Maybe... It... Would... Help... If... You... Looked... In... A... Damned... _Mirror_...!" I managed to get out as grunted each word, holding on to a nearby railing to keep myself from falling over as any thought of trying to order her to stop was rapidly disappearing along with my ability to thick straight for more than a few seconds, though I did have enough foresight to ensure that I wouldn't be getting someone pregnant by accident, if it came to that. Taenera smiled at that, beaming widely and dripping with sex appeal and seduction.

"Why thank you, _Master_ , for telling me how divine I look." I grunted in answer, not too sure what I was trying to say, but said it anyway. Suddenly, Taenera stopped as she stayed kneeling in front of my cock, not taking her eyes off it for a moment.

"You've been doing too much work, _Master_ , and this is, if nothing else, your way of getting something to help you... _relieve_ yourself of all that _stress_..." She stated with a smile.

Right before taking my entire dick into her mouth and sucking it as I felt her tongue running all along my length as she slowly started to pull back before swallowing the entire thing again, flicking her tongue at my balls just as she had them slap into her chin. My hands had shifted unconsciously to the back of her head, fingers digging into her hair as I pulled and pushed with her while my waist started moving, trying to get more since it felt so damned _good!_

"Like being sucked by a bloody vacuum..." I muttered out to myself as I slowed down slightly, feeling myself about to come after... Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Fuck if I knew, I hadn't even noticed when Taenera had turned off the damned shower with her Telekinesis. She knew that I must have been about ready to burst as her tongue seemed to lengthen and started caressing my entire length while the tip of it slipped out of her mouth and started flicking my balls, which were heavy with cum. I also felt her grab my waist, pulling hard as she tried to get me to speed up, probably wanting it sprayed around as she continued using her Biomancy to muck around with her own body, doing a hell of a lot of things to try and get me to cum. Suddenly, I felt a second tongue moving around in her mouth before it flicked the head of my dick, repeatedly as I felt almost ready to burst as it wrapped around the head of my cock and yanked me into her mouth with surprising strength.

And not a moment too late, as I finally stopped holding back, grabbing the back of her head and shoving it into my pelvis as far as it would go. A moment later, I saw her cheeks bulge as I felt that sweet, _sweet_ release as rope after rope of cum sprayed into Taenera's mouth, so much so that the seal being formed by her lips broke and cum poured out of her mouth just a bit faster than she expected, dripping down her chin and on to her perky tits.

She let go of me at that point, pulling back as I honestly thought my legs were going to give out from under me as I held on to a railing beside me to keep from collapsing as Taenera, in turn, stumbled back to her feet with cum dripping down from her mouth and on to her chest. I saw two tongues slip out from her mouth for a moment before darting back in, both taking a bit of cum with them before she suddenly smirked as she glanced down, seeing that, yes, I was still harder than diamond.

Well, I highly doubt that may people _wouldn't_ still be hard even after that, especially with _this_ _Temptress_ in front of them...

"Mmmmmm... That was _good_..." She purred out as she moved forwards, wrapping both arms under my arms and giving me a hug as she pressed her chest into mine, helping to support my own weight even as I felt her grind her dripping cunt against my dick, feeling her running her lower lips against my shaft as I grunted from the feeling of it. A moment later and I was suddenly making out with Taenera as she forced both of her tongues into my mouth and ran over the entirety of my mouth as I, somehow, manage to do the same with my normal tongue, too far gone to be willing to risk any kind of Warp-based fuckery, especially if it involved mucking around with my own body. Pulling back after a minute, Taenera beamed at me in sheer joy, it was honestly terrifying, especially when you think of the statement:

When an Farseer is smug, they've won; When a Farseer is resigned, they've lost; When a Farseer is afraid, everyone has lost.

And I'm currently in a room with an Eldar that is a hell of a lot more powerful than some random Farseer with too many screws loose to count.

"Well then, I think that since we're done with the starters, let's move on to the main course..." She said as she pulled me along, the room suddenly warping as I felt the distinct shift in the world around me, I recognised it as us being teleported.

Then we fell a short distance on to my bed. I blinked a few times just to make sure that had happened, I mean, yeah, it could happen, but that was rather weird in terms of disorientating someone in terms of directions. I got my wits about me fast enough to suddenly notice that I had _two_ bodies sharing the bed with me as I noted, first, Taenera, who was grinning impishly at me, before I noticed Frida on the other side of the bed, beaming happily and looking like her life-long wish had come true. I went to say something witty, but found myself cut off by Frida as she slammed her lips on to mine. My eyes widened in surprise before I finally just decided to go with it, that and I was rather enjoying the taste of mango from her lips. My hands easily started moving, sliding up the Aesir's body as she wrapped her arms around my neck and placed her legs around my waist, holding tightly as one of my hands slide down to her ass. I felt her moan and shiver at the contact before I gave it a squeeze that caused her entire body to shiver slightly as it did interesting things to her tits, easily DD cup sized and really damned soft, as I found out when my free hand started kneading her breasts.

Slipping down from the lip lock, I started kissing Frida's neck even as I saw Taenera moving in the corner of my vision, I paid it little attention as I continued moving, Frida holding on to my head as she guided it further down until I was looking at her unoccupied breast.

"Oh yeah... Yes... Oh please... Right there..." The Aesir moaned out as I started suckling her big breasts, happily biting, sucking and kneading her breasts as I moved around, my other hand moving from kneading her ass to running a nail along her clitt as I continued working away before stopping as I saw Taenera looming over the two of us.

"That's it, _Master_ , just relax... Now, let me help you with that..." She purred softly as I suddenly felt her slamming her crotch down, shoving her lower lips over my dick and then sheathing it entirely before I felt it tighten like a vice around my dick as I went to jump up from the sudden action. My hands tightening on reflex while my face suddenly ended up being smothered in Frida's breast, I felt her hands running through my hair as she pulled me closer to her body.

Honestly, I had no problem with what was going on because one thing was rather damned clear to me at this stage.

This was going to be one hell of a fulfilling night!

 **[LEMON OVER!]**

 **XXX**

AN: Well, the MC finally got laid and learned to relax, shit happened and everything went to hell. For those curious, the 'Cruel Hard Ones' are based on one of the minor factions from Endless Space 2, the Tikanan. Still, I hope you enjoyed that, and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	7. Cry Havoc

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, due to popular demand the interactions between the Aesir and the Imperium of Man will now begin! This will be the first chapter of such things.

Also, just wanted to point out that, due to what seems to be some miscommunication during the last chapter on my part, that the FTL alternatives are those that are in 40K. Basically, it would have been like the Tau Ether drive or using the Webway, maybe one of the others, but I wasn't planning to pull something completely new out of my ass.

Anyway, enjoy the show!

 **XXX**

Looking around from the landed shuttle, I sighed as I looked at the crowd of Felinids lining the walls of the nearby settlement, well, settlement under construction, as it were. Apparently, they thought it would have been a rather nice idea to build a new settlement right on top of the remains of the Xenos Palace after it had been burned to bedrock by orbital fire, just to be sure. Already, the foundations had been planted for a truly massive settlement as I had heard talk of them migrating their entire race to this one city. I was divided on the issue, for a number of reasons, but I kept my opinions to myself and made a mental note to ensure that the place was well defended, along with a note to have a sizeable garrison force present on the planet at all times along with orbital defences, something I planned to make standard in the future.

Looking over the crowd, I noted the forms of these Felinids, they were quite Human in form, the males looking like Humans with a slight bit of fur over their backs, arms and with very thick hair, often flowing like a lion's main, not to mention the cat-like ears that seemed to stick out from the top of their heads along with the tails. The females were slightly different, slightly thicker hair, but no fur and with cat ears and tails being present on their bodies, all of them having athletic builds to match the males, though, most of the males I had seen looked to be made from enough muscle to snap an Ogryn over their knee.

Though, as I turned around, I noted the way that the people were looking at me, awe and reverence being the primary emotions that I could practically taste in the air while others included curiosity, a slight bit of fear, and no small amount of lust from some of the females. I suppressed another sigh at that, my... _Encounter_ , for lack of a better word, with Taenera and Frida had caused me to pay special attention to these things as I didn't want to get blindsided by surprises, even if they were of the pleasant sort. However, it was because of that, that I was able to spot a group of Felinids that I had been waiting on as they approached.

At the head of the group, I saw the Felinid Elder that I had talked to earlier, his fur and hair going grey, but his body still looking like someone in their late thirties at the least. Glancing at his choice of clothing, I noted the similarities between it and some of the more traditional clothing worn in China as he came wearing only a pair of trousers, his shoes and no top while his companion was a rather different story. She, on the other hand, wore a bright orange Kimono covered in a trailing pattern of flowers with blue petals and numerous icons, a quick scan showed they were harness, but it was better safe than sorry. Though, that wasn't what caught my attention the most, no, that honor belonged to the fact that she seemed to have decided to wear her kimono in a similar fashion to Kuroka from Highschool DxD, the fabric having been pulled down to show off her shoulders, showing off a significant amount of cleavage while a black sash ran around her waist, holding it up and preventing the kimono from slipping down further. Not only that, but the front of said kimono was left open, showing off her smooth legs and high-heeled sandals.

"Lord Ambassador. I thank you for your patience and understanding with our traditions, I know that you have not been as... _Enthused_ by some of them, but I thank you for your tolerance and acceptance of your way of life." I offered a smile at that, still annoyed that I hadn't been able to evade this, or talk them out of it. However, I was happy for a number of reasons, mostly because I was glad they hadn't known I was the leader of the Aesir, which would have complicated things, and that they stood by their way of life.

"While I may find some things to be against my own morals, I am hardly going to force you to change your entire way of life just to suit my needs." The Elder bowed at the waist, almost coming close to being parallel to the floor, a surface scan of his thoughts showed that this was to show his submission and his acknowledgement of my higher rank when compared to him. I forced down a grimace at that, the Felinids were completely serious about becoming little more than servants to the Aesir, it seemed.

"I understand, and am thankful for your understanding in this matter." He stood back up before gesturing to the woman at his side. I moved my gaze over to her and scanned her body with my eyes, I could feel a mixture of nervousness and determination flowing from her as she bowed in turn, bowing just as deeply as the Elder. I took her measure as she flashed a significant amount of cleavage at me, unknowingly, if I had to guess as I saw no ill-intentions or plots regarding such a thing.

"This is Tig'ra, she has volunteered to seal the treaty with her servitude to the Lord of the Aesir, this Great Father." The Elder stated as I took her measure, more fully than before. She stood around 2.48 metres tall, rather surprising, but understandable since I had seen that women were taller than men here, an odd reversal. From her head, a thick carpet of brown hair raced down in waves to just above her waist while two, brown cat ears sprung up from the top of her head, amber cat-like pupils looked at me from large eyes with glints of determination showing while her mouth was set into a polite smile, hiding the feat I could feel coming from her. Her body was well built, a by-product of her race while her breasts were easily DD cup sized, I could easily see that thanks to her state of dress, while smooth, virtually hairless, legs were showed off by the opening at the front of her clothing. I nodded at that, understanding what was happening even if I still felt such a practise was barbaric. Mentally, I shrugged, I had time to change things, the advantages of being effectively immortal, after all.

"Greetings, Tig'ra, I am Marcus, I'll be showing you to Yggdrasil to meet with the Great Father." I stated as I offered a bow of my own, shallower than theirs, but they would have argued against me dipping any lower as a show of equals, I had just accepted it as the way of things as, again, I knew that time was on my side to slowly change their traditions.

"And greetings upon you as well, Lord Ambassador. I pray that the Ancestors look favourably upon our journey and this union." She spoke formally, a traditional blessing for the future as I nodded in turn, offering a reassuring smile that seemed to have an effect on her as her cheeks darkened slightly.

"I hope so too, Lady Tig'ra, but I know that even they can only help us so far. I shall still pass along your request to the Vanir Navigators of the _Invictus_ , they are the ones who hold sway over just how rough our journey shall be." I remarked as I looked behind the two and saw a few others carrying what looked like finely crafted chests, a quick scan showed that they were filled with clothing, offerings and what looked like a few weapons, primitive, functional, but highly decorative, probably meant as show pieces, tokens of appreciation, I surmised.

"Your luggage, I take it?" I asked as she once more nodded at me, favoring a light smile as I glanced at them before flexing my power just as the others approached, suddenly, the luggage was floating before it moved passed us and into the Sky Crane behind me, rapidly stacking itself, tucked to one side. I smiled as I looked back at the my watchers, having noticed my eyes glowing as I used my powers, but I favored them with a calm, polite smile, even as I secretly enjoyed some of their shocked expressions.

"Now that your luggage is aboard, I take it that you are ready to depart?" I asked, completely ignoring the shock they were feeling as I was too damned amused by their reactions.

 **XXX**

Tig'ra could only look on in shock as her few belongings and chosen gifts for the Aesir leader flew through the air as she saw the glow in the Lord Ambassador's eyes. She knew what it was, all Felinid knew what it meant, but none had known about that simple fact until they had seen the Lord Ambassador exercise his powers through what many would call an impressive display of skill and control. Throughout the history of the Felinid of Obros, those capable of channeling supernatural powers were rare, but they did exist, called Mystics, these channels were highly sought after for a number of reasons, most of which revolved around their abilities as walking engines of destruction.

Anyone that fought against a Mystic was doomed to failure, in one form or another. As such, when a Mystic was discovered, much effort was made to bind them to clans and ensure their bloodlines were retained, getting them to give birth to as many children as possible to keep such powers within the clans. When the Cruel Hard Ones had come, however, the Mystics were their first targets as they were systematically wiped out, killed to remove any chance of resistance as they used the Dread Star to great effect. However, while the Mystics hadn't survived to the present day, records of them certainly had, as such, they knew that what the Lord Ambassador had just done would have been, to the Mystics that had once existed on Obros, considered as an impossible feat of control, skill and extreme multitasking.

The ability to move objects with a thought had been a common ability, but few had reached such a level of skill to move several objects all at once without crushing or dropping any of them, most had only managed to lift large boulders, usually crushing them in the process before throwing them away. If anything, it certainly attracted the attention of many around the area as the chances of Felinids trying to sire his offspring suddenly jumped up a few orders of magnitude. Tig'ra was rather jealous of that, as she wouldn't have minded giving birth to his offspring as he had already proven himself to be an attractive option for any who wished to sire children. The Lord Ambassador was a skilled warrior, an expert craftsman, as shown when he said that his armor and weapons had been forged by himself, an excellent sage and now he added Mystic to the list, only improving his chances further of getting a mate, or several.

Not to mention the fact that he was rather pleasing to the eye, with an air of humility, utter confidence, cunning and a ruthless intelligence to him.

"Yes, I am ready to be off, Lord Ambassador. Thank you for placing my belongings within the hold of your vessel, it must have been rather tiring, but the gesture is appreciated." Tig'ra stated as she bowed once more, the Lord Ambassador merely smiled at that, lifting a hand before his eyes glowed once more before specks suddenly started floating through the air before building themselves up until it looked like something was forming in his hand, an impossible display of sheer power that had never been seen before as a red-petal-ed flower suddenly appeared between his fingers.

"I assure you, Lady Tig'ra, that using a few parlor tricks will not tire me out anytime soon. Any Vanir worth their skills would have considered such a trick as child's play." He remarked factually, once more highlighting the sheer difference in scale and strength between the Mystics of old and these 'Vanir' as they were apparently called.

"I see." Was all she said as the Lord Ambassador gave her the flower before gesturing for her to board the vessel before her.

"Good. Then, if you have no further questions for the moment, let us be off." He stated as the Felinid nodded with a smile, still feeling fearful of what to expect, but her fear had been reduced somewhat thanks to the kindly manner of the Lord Ambassador. Nodding, she stepped into the vessel after saying her farewells to the Elder and those gathered to watch, followed soon by the Lord Ambassador as he directed her to one of the many empty seats that filled the craft, each one looking large enough to hold an Aesir in full armor and held in place by a harness of solid metal. Tig'ra quickly counted that such a craft could carry at least twenty warriors into battle with little trouble. However, as she felt the ship take off, she found herself caring less for that as a primal joy took over her.

She was going to be the first Felinid of Obros to _fly!_

 **XXX**

"We'll be nearing the _Invictus_ momentarily, Lady Tig'ra." The Lord Ambassador stated as she looked at him in surprise, taken from her thoughts of what the Great Father might be like as she looked back on the amount of time that had past in shock, merely fifteen minutes to travel to the vessel of the Great Father? It was another showing of just how powerful the Aesir were. Seeing her thoughts, something that she guessed could be a lot more literal in his case as a Mystic, he reached over and grabbed a thin plate of glass before handing it to her. Looking at it questioningly, he smiled as she turned her gaze towards him and pressed a finger on to the plate before it suddenly shifted, the clear surface disappearing to be replaced with an image of the vast void before them.

"Figured you might like to see the _Invictus_ on our approach." He remarked, seeing her shocked face before her eyes glued themselves to the plate of glass as she watched the darkness and twinkling stars. Suddenly, she saw it, a dark spot where the light of the stars would not pass as it grew with their approach. As it grew, Tig'ra's eyes grew wider and wider as she saw the utterly massive ships of the Aesir, guessing that some of them were longer than most settlements before her eyes locked on the massive ship in the centre of the armada before her.

Her eyes shot wide and her mouth dropped slightly as she saw it.

"... That ship... How big is it...?" She whispered out, barely trusting her voice to ask the question. Without even looking at the screen, the Lord Ambassador answered.

"The _Invictus_ is the about 35 kilometres from front to back, armed accordingly for its size as well as armored heavily encase of attack." He remarked, but explained nothing more as Tig'ra was left to imagine what such a ship would be capable of, her thought turning up ideas as wild as they were possible, more than one of which being that even the Dread Star would barely hold a candle to such a vessel.

Later on, she would learn just how right she was...

 **XXX**

I had to admit, it was interesting playing guide to the Felinid that was supposed to seal the 'Accords of Submission', as the Felinids called the treaty. I had yet to tell her who I really was, mostly because I would rather get to know someone based on how they acted around me, rather than how they _thought_ I wanted them to act. I was fully planning to break the news to her at some point, but I had yet to decide when, probably on the way back to Yggdrasil, that was my best guess.

"And here we are, Lady Tig'ra, your chambers." I stated as I walked up to a door and watched it open, Tig'ra only looked on in fascination and awe, every little detail, no matter how mundane, serving to heighten her awe of the Aesir and their abilities, pushing her impression of me all the higher, due to her not knowing that I and the Great Father were one and the same.

"Wow..." She whispered out as she looked at the room before her, which, to her, looked like it was made for royalty. The walls were silver with streaks of gold, a large, comfortable bed big enough for multiple people and a number of chambers leading off from the central room that looked to be filled with any number of things that she could hardly imagine.

"This is all mine?" She asked, her voice still quiet as she dared not look away from the inside of the room as I floated her luggage passed her, smiling slight at that as I nodded.

"Yes, this room is yours to do with as you wish until the journey is over, after which, you will be able to move into Asgard once we reach Yggdrasil. I hope it is to your liking?" I asked, slightly curious as I noted that she nodded absently.

"It's perfect..." She muttered as she stepped into the room and I closed the door behind her, I smiled at that, making a note that, maybe, I should tell her who I really was far sooner than I had originally planned, if only because it would give me a great deal of amusement from her reactions.

One had to take joy in the little things that made life worth living, after all.

 **XXX**

Moving along the black and gold corridors of the Throne-ship of the Great Father, Tig'ra did her best to resolve herself of her nervousness at what she was about to do. Mere moments ago, she had received a summon to stand before the Great Father of the Aesir, delivered by a towering woman with glowing veins of cyan visible under her flesh, apparently showing her to be an Aesir. Thinking back, she could remember seeing such things on the Lord Ambassador, but they were not nearly as prominent as the ones on this woman who looked to have been carved from stone and took on the utter incarnation of perfection. Honestly speaking, if she walked through the streets of any settlement on Obros, Tig'ra had little doubt that she would have been swarmed by suitors wanting the right to mate with her, even willing to conduct death duels for the honor.

"We are here." The woman, who had introduced herself as Frida, said as she stood before a door to the chamber of the Great Father, it looked simple, the same as any other door, but the differences were subtle, a slight trim of gold and engraved with small runes while, if you looked at it from the right angle, one could see complex pictures and images engraved on the surface of the door. It wasn't apparent unless you were looking for it, which Tig'ra was as she tried to gage the character of the Great Father. Turning to her escort, her bowed deeply as she spoke.

"Thank you, Lady Frida." The Aesir nodded once before the door opened and allowed her entry. As she entered, she couldn't help but look around, surprised at what she saw as the room, while subtly more decorated than a normal room, was nearly exactly the same as the one she had been staying at. It was a rather large shock to her system as she was so used to having Nobles living in an excess of wealth that having someone so humble as to live in what, to the Aesir, must have been rather mundane was just so out of her range of expectations that she didn't know how to react. That wasn't helped when she heard a familiar voice and turned to see an equally familiar face.

"I take it that my choice in living arrangements surprises you?" Turning, she looked to see the Lord Ambassador sitting at a comfortable looking chair, wearing just a shirt and a pair of trousers, a book in his hand, a slight smile on his lips as a pair of glasses were on the table before him, another chair opposite him. She went to bow as she turned to address him, questioning why he was here when she suddenly froze.

HE HAD BEEN THE GREAT FATHER ALL ALONG?!

"You're the Great Father?" She asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she had a chance to reboot her mind from the sudden shock, her cheeks flushed at the blunt question as she turned to bow low, even kneel, and beg for forgiveness before she heard something, risking a glance, she saw him bark with amusement at her reaction.

"Why yes, yes I am." He spoke with a smile, clearly finding something funny that she was not privy to, not surprising given his rank, but she dearly wished to know. She went to speak, wishing to ask for forgiveness due to her own ignorance, but was stopped as the Great Father raised a hand.

"I dislike people treating me with respect due to my rank or because of some pre-conceived notion of what I may be like or my personality. I try and avoid situations where such incidents can happen and I especially dislike people grovelling to me when they have no reason to do so." He remarked, emphasising that last point as she gave a sheepish nod in understanding. He gestured for the chair opposite him as she moved to take a seat, regarding her for a moment before speaking once more.

"The reason I never said anything to your people is many fold: The first reason is because I didn't wish for those around me to act like they would be walking on thin glass around me, ready to cut themselves open with a misstep. Second, I prefer to lead from the front, as a leader should, not simply because of my rank. Third, I prefer people to get to know me for who I am, rather than deciding whether they like or hate me based on a rank. And finally, I didn't want to utterly destroy so many aspects of your people's culture simply because I disliked certain aspects of it."

"Then what about the Union? If you truly didn't wish for it to happen, couldn't you have demanded that it never be undertaken?" Tig'ra asked, her voice quiet as she took all those pieces of information in, building a more complete image of the Great Father, seeing him as an individual of great humility, but also intelligence and compassion.

"I didn't want to cause too much social upheaval so soon, nor so quickly after your people just had their oppressors removed. I figured that if this is what it took to ensure that your people, and Humanity as a whole, would be able to recover from the Collapse that took place millennia ago, causing the fall of the Human empire, then I would just have to accept it and move on." He started, holding up a hand to prevent her from answering straight away before he continued on. "No, that does not mean I'm going to force you to marry me, or anything else of that kind. If you wish to carry out the Union, that is on you and no one else as far as I'm concerned. If you don't want to, I can just as easily rig up a system to project the image of the Union having been complete while you live as you wish."

As he finished, Tig'ra suddenly didn't know what to say as she considered the statements for what they were, pure facts as far as the Great Father was concerned, but ones that seemed to turn her world upside down with every letter spoken. Pushing onwards, she tried to understand this being before her, not willing to accept the Union, but not wanting to force her to do so? Dislike of the traditions of the Felinids, but tolerant of them to the point that he simply doesn't order their destruction? It was a mass of different ideas and a showing of what the Great Father was willing to allow if it meant his subjects were kept happy. Suddenly, she smiled at that, he wasn't a Tyrant that ruled through right of might or bloodline, but one that inspired people who would follow him willingly to the gates of the afterlife and beyond.

Standing up suddenly, Tig'ra strode around the table in three large steps before she was before the Great Father. He looked at her questioningly, but before he could speak, the Felinid dropped to her knees in a showing of total submission.

"I accept the duty of completing the Union, I shall be your servant, mistress and anything else you wish of me that I may be able to carry out. I shall serve you and yours until such a time that I shall cease to draw breath."

I had to suppress my need to pinch the bridge of my nose at that, if only because I knew that this was only going to make Taenera start plotting. I was in her mind most of the time and knew her rather well, hence why I knew that she planned to see just how thoroughly she could twist Tig'ra around her finger to help her form what was, effectively, a Harem.

Honestly, as I looked down at the attractive form of the kneeling Felinid, I couldn't help but wonder whether to be exasperated or excited by what was to come...

 **XXX**

 **[LIME AHEAD!]**

Stepping out of her shower, Tig'ra couldn't stop the goofy smirk that covered her face as she held the cloth towel around her body, not really needing it due to the fantastic technologies of the ship having already dried her body off. Still, she kept the towel on and wrapped around her even as she flopped on to the massive, extremely comfortable bed within her room, still smiling as she spread her arms out and looked up at the ceiling, simply thinking about her encounter with Marcus, the Great Father.

He hadn't been as she had expected, that had been the main thing that sprang to mind as she considered the sheer humility of a man that commanded such powerful warriors, who had a fleet capable of rending planets from the Void and who commanded the industry of a work dozens of times more advanced than Obros. It was humbling, to say the least, that he would rather protect than enslave, even more so when they, in their arrogance, had thought he would be completely alright with carrying out a Union.

He had apparently held a fair dislike of such a system, but had apparently held his tongue on the matter, showing tolerance of those things with which he found distasteful and seemed to be willing to humor them along. Tig'ra found herself more and more grateful for that singular trait of the Great Father as she considered the ending of her meeting with him, where she had sworn herself into his service, completing the Union and sealing the Accord of Submission for good. She smiled at that, Marcus was a kind, compassionate person when off the battlefield, capable of great things while also capable of doing terrible things for the same reasons, and yet...

And yet Tig'ra found herself not caring about such things, Marcus had saved her race from a long, painful, _humiliating_ death at the claws of the Cruel Hard Ones. Saved them from being little more than _Cattle_ , and had gone out of his way to utterly slaughter them when he had the chance. It was clear that he could have easily turned around and ignored what was happening to him, yet, he didn't. That was more than enough to earn the respect of the Felinid, what had earned him the affection of Tig'ra, however, was that he seemed to wish to be judged not on his rank, but on his actions, a concept that she was willing to accept, along with the fact that he seemed to want to protect them. If such was the case, the Tig'ra only saw it as fair that they gave something in return.

Moving to stand up with a smile on her face, that smile soon turned to a frown as she found herself unable to move from the top of her bed, forced to look up as she frowned. Looking around, her annoyance at the situation turned to worry and fear rather quickly as she couldn't see who was holding her down.

"So, it seems that you shall be the newest addition to our little... _Group_... At the very least, Marcus has good taste." Tig'ra would have jumped as she heard that voice, glancing around, she suddenly saw the intruder to her room, a towering woman, even bigger than Frida, who sat on the side of her bed, her eyes faintly glowing as Tig'ra gulped at that. Mystics were extinct on Obros, but it was rather clear that, if anything, they were still alive and thriving among the Aesir.

"What are you...?" Tig'ra tried to ask before her jaws slammed shut, rattling her teeth slightly as the woman looked on in amusement.

"Shush, no need to talk, just listen and I'll explain everything to you..." The woman purred as the Felinid felt a shiver run up and down her spin as she looked the woman over. She was well built, wearing a white dress that hugged her body and lacking a back or straps to hold it up, the top of it turned into strips of fabric that seemed to coil around her massive breasts while loose bits of fabric hung from her waist. It was an odd dress, but Tig'ra couldn't help but think that it only made the woman before her more attractive, especially since, when compared to Frida, this woman might as well have been a Goddess. Standing up, the woman walked around the bed until she was standing right in front of the Felinid, before a seat lifted itself up and hovered over, slipping under her just as she leaned back to take a seat. Looking down, Tig'ra could see that the woman was smiling.

"You see, you've just joined, even without knowing it, a rather select group that sees to the needs of the Great Father, whatever they may be, either by helping him in battle, or helping him to... _Relieve_ himself of _stress_ , especially given the simple fact that the Great Father doesn't know what it means to simply take a break from his work and relax on his own." The woman spoke, however, even as she did, Tig'ra saw that the pieces of fabric were slowly starting to move, the Felinid felt the cool fabric climbing up her legs, first wrapping around her ankles, then her knees, then moving up to her waist. Tig'ra tried to moan out loud as one strip of fabric brushed against her core, gently caressing it as others continued to move upwards, over her body. The woman watching her just smirked as the towel fell away, allowing her to see Tig'ra's body without difficulty, her breasts standing proudly while the white fabric continued onwards, wrapping around her neck, shoulders, elbows and wrists as she was pulled up from her bed. Tig'ra still couldn't move her mouth as it stayed firmly shut, but she could see the smug smirk on the face of this woman.

"Of course..." She started, trailing off as the fabric around her breasts came away, revealing the massive mounds of flesh as the fabric went ahead and grabbed Tig'ra around her own breasts, squeezing them as they were pulled towards this woman, her eyes going wide from the feeling as her nipples were pinched between two strips of fabric, tightly. Even then, she tried closing her legs as she felt the other bit of fabric brushing deeper and deeper into her, stroking her clit as her eyes showed her bliss and arousal at what was happening. Suddenly, her breasts were smashed into those of the strange woman before her, her body moved like a puppet on strings so that her legs were wrapped around the woman's waist while her arms went over both shoulders.

"... That also means that you're going to need some... _Improvements_ In order to make good on your Oath... Among _other_ things..." Sheer bliss suddenly blossomed through her whole body as the woman before her kissed her full on the lips, her tongue slipping into the Felinid's mouth as Tig'ra struggled to breath, she was panting that heavily through any airway that was still open to her. The pleasure only increased as the woman before her dominated her tongue, started exploring her mouth and her hands wandered over Tig'ra's defenceless body, one hand going down and started to knead her ass while another worked itself into her breasts, slipping between the wrappings around her breasts before kneading them as well, digging nails in and pinching her nipple.

By the time that the other woman, Taenera, had pulled back, Tig'ra's body was little more than putty, only being held up through the former Eldar's efforts while smirking with a mixture of smugness and impish amusement.

"... Don't worry, there will be more of that to follow..." Tig'ra heard before her world descended into nothing more than total pleasure and the feeling of appendages crawling over her skin.

It felt _good..._

 **[LIME OVER!]**

 **XXX**

Well, I honestly shouldn't say that I was surprised with what Taenera did, but I actually was, if only in part due to what she had done to Tig'ra. Taenera already had plans spinning in her mind, I saw them rather easily, all of the involving me having a swarm of women to accompany me as a mixture of advisors, servants, bodyguards and mistresses. As such, Taenera had already put herself in a position to effectively be in charge of all of them, Frida and Tig'ra were hardly in any position to dispute that fact as the former was simply happy being able to share a bed with me while the latter was bound by her Oaths and followed the lead of the more experiences 'Mistress'. Not only that, but Taenera had decided that giving the two of them some _upgrades_ was a good idea.

Both of them were now tougher, stronger and more dangerous than they had been before, with strength well over what an Aesir should have with a toughness to match, apparently having given them augments similar to those of Elite Eldar Warriors from during the War in Heaven. These would allow them all to follow me on to a battlefield and serve as an honour guard if needed, though I felt that such things weren't needed since I was still a pretty damned powerful guy myself, that is to say, I didn't turn down such an offer, as having more people to watch my back was only a good thing.

Still, I questions some of the augments that were given. Sure, I didn't mind Taenera taking one of my ideas I had been mucking around with as a side project and using it to give Tig'ra what was, effectively, biological immortality, along with her newly enhanced nature, but some of the other things were a bit more... _Dubious_ , to say the least.

All three women now had a system that allowed them to control their pheromone output, not only that, but a system of small effectors that released any number of signals ranging from sonic, sub-sonic, electromagnetic or even light waves. These systems allowed they to turn normal men, Aesir and probably even Space Marines into putty under their fingers. For me, it made their suggestions a bit more effective as they often drowned me in the stuff in order to get me to relax. I knew there wasn't any malice in the action, but that didn't mean that I didn't find such things more than a bit annoying when I thought I was about to make a breakthrough in one line of research after months of work.

Though, I would admit, it had done me some good. I was often more relaxed about things, less stressed and less likely to box myself in to one line of thinking. It also helped that Taenera, for reasons only known to herself, also built Familiar and Lover Bonds between myself, Frida and Tig'ra as well, something she considered a good thing as both were also joined to ODIN to protect them from the corrupting influence of the Warp. I had moaned about having more people running around in my head, the girls had reacted to that simply saying that they would merely use such a privilege to ensure that I am taking care of myself.

I called them Temptresses and Seducers, they happily thanked me for those titles as they, repeatedly, slipped into my workshop and convinced me to go to bed with them even if I wasn't tired.

... I would admit that such nights were _very_ fulfilling.

 **XXX**

It took two centuries, more like two and a half when you consider how long I had been in this reality, but I had managed to carve out a rather decent sized domain for myself, a few dozen star systems all recaptured from one Xenos race or another, sometimes it was just primitive things that had gotten luck when a ship had crash-landed while others were small empires that used Humans as little more than slaves or food. All of said Xenos were now little more than a footnote in history, the only proof that they were even around, actually, and even then, said footnote was rather difficult to find.

I had encountered a dozen lost colonies, each one filled with Humans of one form or another, most being the bog standard ones while I did find a few dozen colonies of Adhumans, nothing particularly amazing, but they were present. Usually, I found Humans with a slight change, making them more durable, maybe a bit stronger or with a slightly different skin tone as a result of the planetary conditions, but that was the real extent of it, I rarely ran into any Adhumans with features as prominent as the Felinids that I had encountered early on. Still, all of these races were rather happy to see the Aesir and welcomed being annexed into the Aesir Collective, effectively being client/vassal states that served the Aesir in one form or another.

For example, Gilvox III was a resource rich planet that was filled with Humans who had been breed for enhanced strength, durability and tougher lungs to survive the thinner, burning atmosphere. They had been used as slaves to supply their Xenos overlords with a steady supply of raw materials which they used to build an empire spanning a fair bit of the planet and with a central tower that easily reached orbit. These Xenos reminded me of the Tholians from Star Trek, but who enjoyed living in climates that were below absolute zero, blue and cyan exoskeletons and with a rather inflated sense of self. Once freed from these Xenos, the people of the planet had happily stated that they would supply all the materials that the Aesir could ever wish for along with men and women for the Auxiliary force that was to be the Aesir equivalent of the Imperial Guard: The Storm Wardens.

Another world of interest was Jul Sovic, a planet covered with flat ground and dozens of highly developed farms, resources were scarce, but they managed to get by with wooden tools and massive amounts of food being produced ever quarter. They used this food to pay a Bi-annual tithe to a race of Xenos that lived nearby, who threatened them with destruction if they did not provide this food. They were wiped out to the last when it was discovered these beings, looking much like giant Praying Manti were being the disappearances of dozens of people and had taken them to use as incubators for their young along as food to go along with the food taken from the Agri-world. Once freed, the local people, believing that the Aesir were some kind of race of Gods, had started working in earnest to repay us, while we provided tools, a better standard of living and a better education, even teaching them improved methods of managing their crops.

By the end of the current phase of expansion, I was looking at over two hundred worlds, not all of them inhabited, under my control, another 23 Gas Giants and all of that contained within about 21 solar systems spread over an area a few dozen lightyears across. It was a rather compact area of space, but I had ensured that it was well defended, with each world having a significant amount of defences, boarder worlds being turned into Fortress world hybrids with a Garrison force of over a million Aesir soldiers, with supporting equipment, along with a further twenty million Storm Wardens acting in support. Not only that, but fleet bases were usually placed within the Dark space between solar systems, ensuring that no one could find them unless they knew what to look for, and even then, such things were well defended with rotating fleets, permanently stations defence ships and enough anti-capital ship guns built into the stations themselves to ensure that anyone stupid enough to attack any such station had better be ready for a fight.

Aside from the occasional Ork purge needing to be done in some of the outer systems, things remained rather peaceful as I had the holdings of my empire consolidated before getting ready for the next push outwards, into the void.

Of course, before such a thing could happen, things took a turn for the worse as I got a message from one of the outer systems. It was a flash message from the local Vanir coven, delivered by ODIN and encrypted as heavily as possible so that only I could read it.

Kilomiz under attack. Orbital defences and Fleet support holding. Unknown time duration. Hostiles have been identified. Communications stated leader designation: 'Primarch Leman Russ, Primarch of the Sixth Legion of the Imperium of Man'. Send reinforcement Fleet with ground elements. Hostile forces have made a breech head.

That was the message that I had read as I sat at the edge of my bed, the words flashing through my mind as I glanced over my shoulder to see the sleeping forms of Taenera, Frida and Tig'ra, I checked the link with them before I leaned down, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers as I breathed out through my nose.

"Space Wolves... It just had to be Space Wolves..." I muttered to myself.

This was going to be a long week... I just knew it...

 **XXX**

Kilomiz was a desert world, rich in mineral resources, but utterly devoid of any real form of life beyond the few small seas of drinkable water, and even then, said water had to be heavily filtered to allow for it to be drank without allowing the high salt content from doing more damage to the drinker. Still, with the help of the Aesir, that was slowly changing as small growths of plant-life started growing away from these small seas as life improved, the global temperature started to drop as massive Terraforming systems were constructed in key locations, given their own garrisons and secured against attack. The planet itself was also well known for the strength of its inhabitants, the native Humans being a hardy and determined people that sought to survive and thrive off the sweat from their own backs. They held an instinctive stubborn nature that, while not ungrateful for aid, were unwilling to allow those that gave them aid to do all the work.

As such, when the Aesir saved them from being used as literal cattle by an amoeba-like Xenos race, they refused to stay on the side lines and simply let the Aesir fight for them. They had fought besides the Aesir before joining the Aesir, feeling that such a thing their best choice after having their civilization ravaged by the short, but intense, battle that saw the destruction of the Xenos.

Now, Kilomi served as both a mining world and a strong bastion of the Aesir Collective, offering a rich recruiting ground for the Storm Wardens and even having a few shipyards for non-Aesir vessels to dock to allow for repairs of vast cargo vessels that carried the raw ore and refined materials away to other world.

However, the normally busy space around the planet was filled with a different kind of traffic as blasts of energy and salvos of destructive projectiles, the size of small apartment buildings, filled the skies of the world. These attacks were fired on the defenders of this world, hitting shields and staggering as the return fire came within moments, lances of Blue and red striking out, waves of Hunter Mines sweeping aside any attacker as shields were overloaded and hulls ripped to pieces of multiple detonations.

The Imperial force severely outnumbered the defending Aesir forces, but their quantity was matched, and, in some places, exceeded by the quality of the Aesir as complex weapons tore through Void Shields and Adamantine Hulls. Strike Craft were ripped from the skies while any attempts at boarding were shot down before they even had a chance, their occupants blow apart or left to die in the Void. The Aesir reaped a terrible toll upon the Imperial forces, but the Imperials were still able to strike back, attacking with great fever and zealousness as they forged ahead, even trying to repeatedly ram the larger Aesir ships, weakening Shields and, eventually, cracking them open.

More than a few Aesir ships fell through this method, but such a method still cost the Imperials terribly.

However, while this was going on, one task group of ships rammed its way towards the orbit of the planet even as it was savaged by the Anti-orbital weapons of a dozen types, some more powerful than others, but each of them failed to ensure the destruction of a single ship at the centre of the formation, protected by a shield of other vessels as it charged through the atmosphere before taking position above a large plane to the South of one of the Terraforming stations located on the Equator of the planet. From there, a hail of pod-like objects feel from the craft, hitting the atmosphere but continuing onwards as they screamed in protest before heading for the ground, followed closely by massive dropships that had been launched with all due haste in order to keep up with the descending pods.

Not all of those transports would reach the ground, but enough of them would make it to allow for the creation of a large scale breach head for the Imperial Soldiers and the members of the Astartes of the Sixth Legion.

Still, for many members of both the Imperial army and the Storm Wardens, this would not be a battle decided by men, but one decided by Gods.

It was time for the Wolves of Fenris to match their fangs against the Might of the Aesir.

 **XXX**

AN: Ok, so there is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it and, as always, appreciate any feedback yo could give me.


	8. And let loose the Dogs of War

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, this was a fair bit of work, not going to lie, I'm not sure if I nailed the Space Wolves _just_ right, but I did the best I could. Same thing for Russ, but I figured that his characterization was rather close. You'll notice that I didn't bother with any accents, mostly because I'm pretty sure _that_ would just end up turning the story into a clusterfuck.

Anyway, before we begin, I just wanted to answer that the members of the Storm Wardens look like the Wolves and the Bears from Too Human.

I love that game, so what?!

So, moving onwards, enjoy the chapter!

 **XXX**

Growling, Leman Russ grabbed a hold of the nearest railing even as his ship rocked and rolled from impact after impact. The Void Shields of the _Hrafnkel_ were holding under the onslaught of the enemy vessel, but only just. If the larger, 22 kilometre long Battleships got involved in the shooting rather than just sitting back and throwing more of those explosives at them, then Russ had his doubts that they would manage to hold. Still, even as more of his Sons deployed to the surface of the planet, he couldn't help the growl that boiled out of his throat.

They had offered these lost Humans the chance to join the Imperium of Man, to submit to the rule of the All-Father and survive the experience. Instead, these Humans had spat on that offer and told them to 'fuck off', however, the greatest insult was when they told him the name of whom they had sworn their loyalty to.

The Aesir Collective.

Rage boiled within him as he ground his teeth together.

Those Arrogant Whelps dared call themselves Gods!?

Keeping his anger in check, he turned to one of his sons, Wolf Lord Bulveye, as he spoke, his tone mixed with rage and anger at these fools for their arrogance, something he could see reflected in many of his Sons.

"What's the status of the landings?" Russ demanded as the Wolf Lord turned to him and bowed his head in submission to the Great Wolf.

"Slowly, Great Wolf, the Whelps are putting up more of a fight than we thought, their guns are defense guns are ripping any ships but the _Hrafnkel_ that tried to make for planet fall." His Son reported dutifully as Russ raged and seethed at the news. Still, he was a Primarch, and even in the depths of his rage, he was still able to carry out his duty and consider his next course of action with the wisdom and experience that such a position granted him.

"Have the most of the ships pull back and commence long-ranged bombardment of the Whelp fleet, try and take out those damned mines along with a few more of their ships. Have the Shipmasters target the enemy Battleships especially. The _Hrafnkel_ will cycle around and pull reinforcements from the fleet before dropping them down to the planet while other ships provide support either with long range fire or by close-in support. Have the Cog-heads go with the first fresh wave to start building a breach head for more forces to land." He commanded, knowing that a close-range space fight would favor their enemies, as it already had.

They had come with a full fleet of thousands of ships, filled with members of the Imperial army, the Mechanicus and of the Space Wolves, dozens of Battle Barges and Battleships making up the core of the fleet and two orders of magnitude more escort vessels. The enemy fleet numbered barely a fraction of that; five Battleships, forty Cruisers, a few hundred Destroyers and what looked like over six hundred skimmers of some kind. And yet, for all that, their enemies had dug in deep and refused to move, their shields holding strong against some of the most powerful barrages the Void had ever seen while the return fire was unnervingly accurate, with a high rate of fire and with a devastating power behind it that left most ships as little more than floating hulks of metal, ripping through their Shields as though they weren't even active.

It was easy to see that the Whelp ships could also punch well above their weight class. Cobra-Destroyers were swatted aside by the Skimmers of the enemy while Cruisers and Battlecrusers were ripped to pieces by their Destroyers while their Cruisers were ripping through Battleships with arrogant ease. However, the worst part of the Void battle had to be the Battleships...

So far, those massive ships had done little more than stand guard over the planet, taking pot shots at any ship that got too close, but those shots had never failed to sink even Battle Barges and Battleships with a single shot, usually snapping the backs of entire squadrons that got too close while return fire was utterly ignored by the immense shields of the Whelp ship or shot down before impact by defensive weapons. Not only that, but the damned things were throwing out a virtually unending tide of self-guided mines that were seeking out the vessels of his fleet and destroying them with a tide of explosions and metal.

Growling as he watched yet another ship die, having strayed too closely to the enemy fleet, and having been cut in half by another one of those blue lances that came from a Battleship, Leman Russ looked at the planet and ground his teeth together.

If they could force the compliance of the planet, they would be able to force the ships to surrender by holding the natives at their mercy. If they crews of those ships had even a shred of honor, they would comply.

"Assemble my Varagyr and have them meet me in the hangars! Have a Stormbird ready for my arrival when I reach there, I am heading down to the planet to face these Whelps and show them the true might of the Wolf!" The Primarch commanded as those around him saluted with their heads bowed, gleeful anticipation of their Primarch's fury being unleashed was written on their faces as they shouted their acknowledgement as one.

"As you will it, Great Wolf!"

 **XXX**

"Take out those damned flyin' Bastards! Blow them from the skies!" Shouted Wolf Lord Hvarl Red-Blade as, once more, the advanced soldiers of the Whelps went in for another pass over them, flying on Anti-grav hoverboards, trailing a long tail covered in spikes and tipped with what could only be a Power blade. Firing Bolters at the nuisances, even as missiles raced after the nimble bastards, the damned things, even given how exposed the pilots of them were, were surprisingly durable as each of them seemed to possess a personal shield that only made them harder to kill. It was actually rather understandable to have such a thing, especially given the fact that the pilots of the damned things seemed to greatly enjoy using their wing-mounted blades, the tail blades, and arm-mounted Melta weapons at close range to sow confusion.

"Get down!" The Wolf Lord heard before it was followed by an accompanying series of thumps. Looking over, he saw the helmets of six of his Brothers, their heads still inside the helmets as blood flowed into the dry dirt below them. It was a humiliating end, one that didn't suit the Sons of Russ all that well, but it served its purpose in enraging the Wolves further. Turning, the Wolf Lord snarled at the closest Tech-Priest.

"How much longer until the Breach is secured!?" He demanded as he lifted the Tech-Priest up with one hand, the heavily converted cyborg not even weighing a thing to the enhanced muscles of the Astartes.

"Impossible to say, Lord Astartes. The work crews and Servitors are working as fast as they can, but the continued attacks are thinning their numbers. Best Estimate to completion is sometime within the next six days." Obviously, that was not the answer that Space Wolf was looking for, as his Power Armor-clad hand locked around the throat of the cyborg.

"Six Days!? Are you mad!? We need those damned defenses up _NOW!_ " He snarled at the Cog-boy before throwing them to the ground, disgusted by the amount of time it would take, not to mention being enraged by the fact that more of his Brothers would die in the days ahead.

"Warning! Artillery bombardment incoming!" The warning sounded out as all those within hearing distance of the speaker suddenly sprinted for cover as artillery shells started raining down. Over the last few hours, the Space Wolves had already experienced seven such bombardments, all of them deadly and having caught them off guard when they abruptly stopped before continuing. Of course, that wasn't what made these bombardments so dangerous, no, what made them dangerous was the choice of shells being used.

Suddenly, as they all ran back for the cover of thick plate of Ceramte that had been built in response to the bombardments, they watched as the shells landed and started detonating all over the place, exploding in miniature spheres of super-heated plasma that burned craters into the ground, covering the dry, sandy soil with pits of molten glass. Of course, simply Plasma weapons were not the only thing being thrown at them, much to the hatred and anger of the Space Wolves.

An example of that was the massive shells that exploded into a cloud of shimmering, black smoke that settled rapidly into what could be considered paint. Originally, the Space Wolves had laughed at this as they thought it was some poor attempt to cripple their ability to operate by removing their vision from them.

There laughter and jeers had lasted all of eleven seconds before they watched as those covered by the 'paint' were eaten alive by it, the insidious substance eating right through their sacred Power Armor before tearing them apart, ripping flesh from bone before it kept on going. Some victims had been utterly consumed by the Black Mist, as it had been come to be known as, little more than a pair of Ceramite boots remaining of them, others were more 'fortunate', the Black Mist having stopped as it left their organs exposed to the elements and took limbs from them, often leaving them so crippled that it would be a miracle if they lived to be implanted within a Dreadnought. The Cog-heads had yet to discover the means by which it worked, but many of them believed that, once they got the Void Shield online, it would stop being an immediate threat to the Breach head.

Somehow, the Wolf Lord has his doubts, especially as it seemed that, despite being a bunch of Whelps calling themselves by a name they had no right to, they had a seemingly endless bag of nasty tricks, with few hang-ups about deploying them as they wished.

And, as he glared at the impact craters, he found himself dreading what came next.

"AARGH!"

"Kill the Whelp!"

"Hold him still! I can't get a clear shot!"

"To Helheim with this! For the Great Wolf!"

The Wolf Lord turned his head as he looked in time to see more of his Brothers fall, not to the Artillery shells, but to an armored figured in black armor, covered with a black and gold trimmed cloak and holding a staff that cleaved through Space Marine armor like it wasn't even a challenge. Return fire did nothing as a Shield defended the Whelp while he turned around and unleashed a bolt of blue flames from his hands, burning through more of the Wolf Lord's Brothers as some of them pulled back, hoping to use distance as their shield against this... _Thing_.

It offered no such protection as the staff seemed to fall apart, lines of silver thread holding the three pieces together before the Whelp threw it, the segmented staff extending far more than it had any right to before making impact with the first Space Wolf. The staff didn't even falter as it simply kept on going, slicing through Battle-Brother after Battle-Brother until only the dismembered remains of the once proud group of Space Wolves remained. Standing alone under that shelter, the Whelp seemed to take in its handy work before nodding to itself, turning, it locked eyes with the Wolf Lord and held up its staff, pointing straight at the Space Wolf in an unspoken message that all understood.

 _You're next._

 **XXX**

From his perch, Wolf Trooper Commander Jax Domisic looked down at the chaos that was happening before him with a smile on his face. The Aesir Ravens had already been doing one hell of a good job, slicing into the Invader forces and cutting them to pieces, and with the constant barrages of Plasma and Nano-shredder shells raining down on them, they were too scared to even stick their heads out to try and pick a fight. Sure, Jax could see that more enemy reinforcements were incoming, but that hardly mattered. Yeah, using his mask's built-in magnification system, he could see that out of the hundreds of transports that were coming down, only a few dozen of them were actually going to make it to the Breach.

Still, Jax knew that those numbers would still have a serious impact on how the battle for this planet was fought.

Sensor reports, beamed straight to any Trooper that wanted them, told him that the smaller transports were all loaded with more of the Augmented Invaders, at least a hundred per transport with one, the central transport, holding only half that number. Other transports were big, boxy things that seemed to contain a few crude Battle Titans, their designs were basic, internal systems being utter shit and the only thing that was really going for it was that it had a lot of half decent guns. Still, the Titans of the Aesir were much better.

"We going to call in another artillery strike?" The question came from a figure next to him, turning, he saw Wolf Trooper Galvin Banks, the marksman of the his Wolf Pack, made up from him, Galvin and another thirteen others that all shared the same duties, all of them being natives to this world and hoped to make the Invaders bleed before throwing them out. All of them were dressed similarly to him, a grey, Cameoline-coated overall made from a dispersive nanotube mess laced with a ceramic polymer and insulated with enough smart padding that you'd be unable to _ever_ get cold in them. Over that, they wore black armor plates made from Ceramite that covered their vital spots along with a harness around their legs and arms to help them move more swiftly, an exo-skeletal system. Rather basic stuff, but certainly better than what Jax noted that the normal Humans in the Invader army had, those that weren't techno-zombies or Cyborgs at least.

"No, let them land and give them a bit of breathing room. We'll call down another one after they've had time to settle in. HQ already got back with an estimate of how long it will take them to get their defenses up, even with the help that just arrived, their looking at another three days of work. Not to mention the fact that we hold the high ground." Jax finished with a smirk as those in his squad smirked and snorted in amusement. It was true after all, the invaders had landed in a massive section of lowland, surrounded by cliffs on all sides and with only five ways up, all of which were being heavily fortified, blocked or both, as he spoke.

"Fair point." His second conceded as Jax went to stand up.

"C'mon, We should find another position, if only because I don't want to be here if those idiots finally _do_ manage to move out of their little breach head."

 **XXX**

"Place three more Wall fortifications here, here and here, follow that up with deploying another five AA turrets and two Smart-turrets and move two companies here. That should ensure that the Imperials find no weak point." Commanded the Aesir Hecatonchires as she worked, her armor looking much like those worn by the Sleipnir, but different, covered in thicker plating and given the added bonus of six mechanical arms, each tipped with a series of tools that would allow her to do her job.

For Senior Hecatonchires, Beta Grade, Balda, that job was ensuring that all the fortifications along the cliff faces looking down on the lowland known as Dead Man's Bowl were locked down tight, something that she was more than happy to do as she worked to plan out the necessary defenses. Truthfully, the situation was rather easy to see; The Invaders were stuck in the bowl, Air defenses wouldn't let them fly out so that would mean they would have to march on any of the five exits, something that was easier said than done. Especially with Marauders and Smart-guns raining an unpredictable shower of artillery shells down on their heads. Glancing around, she saw a Rexus start moving the pieces into place, it's massive arms easily holding each of the Wall fortifications with ease as it placed them down.

Walking over to one, one of her robotic arms reached out, the triple jointed arm moving easily through the air before connecting into the access port, brining the machine to life. An instant later, the machine came to life, bolts shooting out from below the small Hexagonal prism before it rapidly rose into the air, beams of energy linking it with the other, nearby, Walls before something moved around. Following that, like a shutter, metal shifted before unfolding into sheets that connected, locked into place and then forced themselves into the ground, locking themselves into place. Two Walls connected within seconds, forming a metre thick wall made from an outer layer of Black Plate almost 25 centimetres thick on either side while the inside of that was rapidly filled with a honeycomb made from a carbon-nanotube mesh inflating like a balloon to fill the space. What space that remained was filled with an advanced aerogel to allow for a high tolerance for temperatures.

Looking up, Balda saw the top of the wall, some ten metres up, before moving over to one of the empty sections of wall. As she approached, her thoughts were translated into actions as her lower two arms unfolded from her back, both of them being much the same as the previous one, ending in a four fingered hand with each finger arranged around a central point. Suddenly, those central point's opened to release a spray of black particles that got to work, a swarm of neural-controlled nano-machines that would allow Balda to work. Within moments, the base of an elevator had been formed as she started to move up, building more and more of the needed structure to allow for weapons to be moved up.

All around her, she saw other Hecatonchires working to build walkways out of Black Plate, emplacing automated AA turrets after getting the help of a Vanir to lift them into the air before placing it back on to the platforms. Within half an hour, that new section of Wall was fully fortified and was already being put to use as the Wolf Packs of the Storm Wardens, accompanied by their Bear Heavy Weapon and Close Combat Specialists, went to work bringing ammo, power cells and spare weapons to defend these walls.

Standing to one side, Balda finished working on a new turret, a Smart-gun designed to use magnetic rails, Accelerator chambers and a Gravimetric pulse engine to launch projectiles any number of different ways. The one she was working on was set to act as a direct fire asset that would fire on any target that came within range. Ammo was already being feed into the machine even as she finished her work on the barrel, looking like someone too one of the cannons from a Marauder and put it on a swivel turret, even as she noted what the ammo types were with a smile.

Airbursting Nano-Shredder capsules, Plasma warheads, Grav-implosion warheads, and more than a few Cluster Tick bombs.

Balda smiled cruelly at those last ones, they were a favorite of hers, had been after she saw some in action during an Ork purge of Desmos III. They were canisters that detonated before, or above, a target to release a four hundred small machines, each one shaped roughly like an oval and covered with drilling teeth, propeller tracks and a small thruster at the back of them. Once activated, they would hone in on sources of vibrations that didn't have an active or passive IFF and would jump at them, their teeth capable of eating through Ceramite and would dig into the targets body before following the blood streams to the Heart. Once at the Heart, they would detonate, the end result, on Orks, had been that the target would be lucky to still have a head, or chest.

 _"See something you like out there, youngling?"_ The voice through the ODIN suddenly caused her to drop her reminiscing as she spun around to see who had asked such a question. She stopped as she saw her superior standing there. He wore much the same armor as she did, but much more heavily armed and armored, with an additional four arms that served only as weapons, each one seeming to be equipped with two Las-talons and a Plasma Carbine, the former being a weapon that had long since been handed down to the Storm Wardens while the later was a standard weapon among the Aesir.

 _"Nothing but sand, stone, burning heat and a dozen Invaders that are sitting there, waiting to be used for target practice..."_ Balda made her opinion of the situation known as her superiors sighed at that. She was not alone in her thoughts either.

 _"True, but they are serving a purpose by being there."_ The other Hecatonchires, Senior Hecatonchires, Alpha Grade, Torarr, sighed as he looked at one of his subordinates, one of many that questioned the orders from the Marshal of Kilomiz. Then again, he was just following his own instructions.

 _"What purpose!? They are simply sitting there! Trying to build a Breach head, and failing. Badly. Unlike in orbit, we outnumber them a dozen times over on the ground, the Ravens have also been flying near constant attack flights on them while I hear that at least a few Vanir have been working to decapitate their leadership and enrage those that escape. If we struck when they landed, then we could have utterly annihilated them!"_ Balda demanded through the ODIN Field, the nearby Wolf Packs being utterly oblivious to her shouting at her superior. _"So why haven't we!?"_

 _"... Finished?"_ Torarr asked in amusement, getting the equivalent of a huff from the slightly younger, lower ranking Hecatonchires as he continued. _"Now, to answer your question; The reason we haven't yet moved in is because the Great Father has ordered it as such."_ Those words got an immediate, and physical, reaction from the younger Aesir, causing her head to snap around to look at Torarr.

 _"The Great Father...? But what would he need these primitive thugs for? I've been watching them and most of the augmented among them are little more than rabid mutts that have been going stir crazy from the near constant defensive action they've been forced to take. Why has the Great Father wished them to live?"_ Balda asked, unsure of anything now that the Great Father was brought into the mix.

 _"Indeed, I had very much the same reaction when I was told. The Marshal had given me the orders himself to look over. We were to harass the Imperials, kill them, but not exorcise them from this world. We were to build up an encirclement around them, create a single area where they may be allowed to go, but no other. And, after that, we would allow them to build their Breach Head, but only to a point, continued raids are already planned to ensure that construction never truly finishes while Artillery shells are being stock piled, primarily with Void-bypass capabilities. However, one thing of note was that the end of the message mentioned that the_ Invictus _itself was on its way."_ If the previous statement hadn't shocked the young Aesir, than this one certainly had.

 _"The_ Invictus _... The Great Father is coming here?"_ She asked, her voice within ODIN was shaking from her nervous energy and sheer excitement at the fact. She was answered with a single nod.

 _"Indeed. And, as a side note, his message stated he was going to be bringing multiple Battle-Titans, Jormungand-class."_ Suddenly, under her helmet, Balda smirked as she looked towards the Imperial encampment, surrounded by dropships and dozens of wrecks, along with a few dozen half-finished fortifications built by hurried Tech-Priests.

Suddenly, Balda felt rather smug and amused about what was to come, though, she almost found it in herself to pity the Imperials.

Almost.

 **XXX**

Stepping out of his Stormbird, Leman Russ frowned at what he saw.

All around him, he saw a wasteland of dry, dust-like earth and jagged cliff. It was a far-cry from his home of Fenris, but it was a world that had to be brought under Compliance, therefore he would do his duty to the best of his ability. However, immediately following that, he noticed the state of the surrounding lands.

Dozens of wrecks with the icons of the Space Wolves decorated the land, their armored hulls having been ripped to pieces by attackers while the corpses of his Sons lay around the firebase in piles that seemed to be filled with holes, showing the damage done to them as it almost looked like something had just... _Removed_ parts of them from their bodies. Along with that, he saw a dozen massive plates of Ceramite having been constructed over a few surviving vehicles, one of them being a Stormbird while a few others were the craft of the Mechanicus. As he strode out from his Stormbird, his Wolf Guard around him with their weapons at the ready, he was met by another of his Sons that moved to greet him while the rest remained under cover, weapons at the ready, a lot of which seemed to be carrying heavy weapons such as Rotary Autocannons, Missile Launchers and Lascannons, their Bolters having been placed on their backs as they looked to the sky.

"It is a relief to see that you made it down from orbit in one piece, Great Father." Spoke the Jarl of For, Hvarl Red-Blade, as he went up and met his Primarch, who, in turn, nodded.

"Indeed, the Whelps certainly know how to cower behind their defenses, their magik and their fancy gadgets, but we'll win this world from them, then, we'll take the rest of their puny, little empire from them." Leman Russ stated as he noted the Titan transports landing nearby, the massive, boxy machines having been covered with gouges and craters from whatever weapons were fired against them, but they were still in one piece, along with their cargo.

One Warlord-class Battle Titan, two Reaver-class Battle Titans, five Warhound-class Scout Titans.

"What of the attacks? How often do they come?" Russ questioned as he turned away from the transports.

"There is nor rhythm or rime to their attacks, they merely come when they wish, attack, kill, before they disappear back to where they came from. Artillery attacks also either come before, during, or after such attacks, usually with a rain of Plasma weapons along with the Black Mist." Hvarl explained, drawing a raised eyebrow from unknown name that he had heard.

"Black Mist?" He asked, curious about what could deserve such a name.

"It is a weapon that the Whelps use, it explodes from the shells it lands in, like smoke before settling on anything around it, looking like black paint for a moment. We first thought it was some attempt to blind us... We found out the truth moments later when the laughter turned to screams and we were forced to watch as that 'Paint' ate through their armors and dissolved their flesh." Hvarl explained, looking off to one side in shame at failing his Brothers. Russ merely looked at him calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You have nothing to feel shame for, Pup, you fought against them as best you could, like a real warrior, while they relied on cheap tricks and their abominations to carry the day. However, at the end of the day, we'll be the ones with this world in our grasp!" Russ explained, his tempo rising as all the surrounding Space Wolves stood up straighter, expressions of glee and excitement covering their faces, the idea of meeting their chosen enemy head on was one that they savored. They all cheered, however, as their Primarch foretold their victory.

It was an image that all the Astartes wished to see, having already lost so many Brothers to this single planet. Looking around, Russ smiled at his inspired Sons before making one last announcement.

"Rest, my Pups, rest and recover, eat well and sleep well, for tomorrow, this battle will see it's end as we march at first light!"

 **XXX**

Sitting on my Command Throne aboard the _Invictus_ , I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.

I had forged an empire out of nothing, seen it stand for over two centuries with me at the helm and had seen it only grow stronger since, even without my intervention. Now...

Now I wanted to see how they would fair against the Imperium of Man. Honestly speaking, I didn't really like the Imperium, hell, if given the choice, I'd have rather gone and been an Eldar or a Necron. Fuck it, even an Ork or a Tyranid would have been better since the Imperium, even back during what I guessed to be the Great Crusade, was nothing more than a clusterfuck of shit. Seriously, the idea of an army taking over the Galaxy is something that I often laugh at, if only because of the sheer impossibility of it. Sure, the Eldar might have been able to pull it off with the Webway, but that thing had shattered like a sheet of glass after the birth of the Forth. The Necron's Inertialess Drive or their Domen gates were things that interested me, the former more than the latter, but that was besides the point.

Regardless, I'd have to play with the cards I had been dealt.

"What is the current status of the Fleet?" I asked, referring to the fleet I had ordered to gather in response to the attack on Kilomiz. It was constructed of no less than three Dreadnoughts, including the _Invictus_ , ten Battleships, fifty Cruisers, five hundred Destroyers and over two thousand Corvettes. I had stripped out the Rapid Reaction Fleet groups of several strategic locations close to Yggdrasil in order to fill this fleet, adding the attendant fleet of the _Invictus_ to that mess as well. All of these ships were also fully stocked with soldiers, supplies and enough weaponry to shatter multiple solar systems by itself.

And I was soon about to unleash it on the Sixth Legion.

"All reports are coming back in the green, all stations have reported that they are ready to jump at your word, Great Father." Reported Warden Saekell, he stood to one side of the room while I looked around, accessing the ship's network both through my DNI and ODIN. I smiled at what I found.

Honestly, the fleet was filled with soldiers, tens of millions of Wolf Troopers and other soldiers from the Storm Wardens while I had millions of Aesir aboard the fleet with dozens of assorted war machines, all based on technologies I had gleamed from the space hulks I had seen in my younger days. However, even with all of those, even with every detail assaulting my mind, one name stood out to me like a bonfire in the middle of a forest.

 _Jormungand_

The Jormungand-class Battle-Titan, sometimes called a War-Titan, was a thing of beauty, a massive, serpentine war machine that was over six kilometres long, made from multiple segments with each one being roughly 250 metres long and over one hundred metres thick. The alloy skin, called Titan-skin due to its purpose and being a derivative of Black Plate, of these machines were over five metres thick, at the weakest point, while it was over fifteen at some places, all of which was back stopped with a nanite-based self-repair system, with said system drawing raw materials from a storage system using Klein Bottle-based techniques to store over several tetratons of raw materials. _That_ particular system was bulky, meaning that it couldn't be mounted on anything smaller, but I thought it was a fair trade off.

For weapons, a Jormungand was not lacking. The massive jaws were powerful enough to snap a starship in half, with teeth as large as a Rexus was long, Transonic in nature and sheathed in a Power Field, while the armored bulk of the machine itself could be used as a weapon to crush and squeeze opponents into nothing but dust. Along it's flanks were dozens of point defense systems, Ion Shields and a sectional Void Shield that ensured that no weak points were visible. The main weapons of the machine were a long series of Hyper-Fusion Cannons, mounted in a triple-linked configuration and the dual-mounted to hundreds of turrets along each flank, these things could destroy a Rexus in a single shot. However, the trade off for them was that they were short ranged weapons, knife-fight ranges, though, they were beyond powerful when used correctly. Along with this, a further hundred turrets covered the sides, these ones housing oversized versions of my Las-talons, upgraded to the size of Capital-ship Lances and upgraded with the latest technology to give it a bit more long-range fire power. Along the back of the machine, literally millions of missile launchers were hidden under armored shutters, carrying any number of payloads, but most carried potent Grav-Implosion bombs, Nano-Shredder Warheads and other, more exotic and esoteric weapons. Six Torpedo launchers were located on the head, three on either side of the jaws while two weapons of planetary devastation were hidden at the back of the throat.

The first was an upscaled Conversions Beamer, a weapon that accumulated Anti-Matter as the beam travelled, depending on the settings of the weapon itself. It was capable of reducing entire landmasses to nothing but dust with a single blast. It _had_ done so during more than one Ork Purge of one system or another, firing down from orbit since these Titans were fully capable of moving on the Void, the air, on land and beneath the waves, a recent addition of a Power Field sheathing system to the head of the Titan also allowed it to tunnel below the earth.

Now... The other weapon... Well, I had little doubt that Big E was going to shit his pants when he saw it, if he saw it, in action.

It was an Adrathic weapons of monstrous size, I called it the Adrathic Lance, even though the official title of those types of weapons were Ruiner weapons, meaning that the official name of the weapon was the Ruiner Lance.

I'd only used it once to remove a particularly stubborn Ork infestation of a small moon around a barren world, but the results had been devastating.

Needless to say, there was no longer a moon in orbit of that particular world.

And I had built ten such machines...

Not only that, but such things were the _least_ of the Jormungand's secrets.

 **XXX**

From her position by the Vanir Navigators, Taenera watched as Marcus smiled, clearly looking at something of great interest, though, she was willing to guess what it was.

The Aesir Collective had been attacked less than fifteen hours ago. In that time, Marcus had already moved to gather a fleet and reinforcements to remove the attackers and force them back to where they came from. Such was the case that he had summoned all _ten_ of his Jormungands from their Vaults beneath Asgard. Each one of those metal serpents were crafted by Marcus himself, technological wonders with capabilities that would put any war machine of the current age to shame. By Isha, the only thing those machines were missing was a Warp Drive and then they'd be unstoppable.

However, truth be told, Taenera feared such machines, as did Marcus, who was weary of using even one of them at the best of times, deploying all _ten_ of them was tantamount to him believing that such measures had to be taken due to facing what might be considered as an existential threat to the Aesir as a whole. Then again, Taenera had been Scyring and Divining the future to see what these Imperials were like.

Needless to say, Taenera had agreed to the decision rather swiftly after seeing _that_.

"Alright." Marcus suddenly spoke as he stood from his Throne as he looked around the CIC, all stood at the ready and looked to him for directions. He nodded to the crew with ease before speaking.

"Get me a fleet wide communication line, I will be making an address before we Jump to Kilomiz. Also, Vanir, you may relax, I shall direct us to Kilomiz." He stated simply, the reactions were immediate and understandable. Though Marcus chose not to exercise his Psychic abilities all the time, let alone to their fullest extent, the Aesir still knew that even their strongest Vanir was leagues below Marcus in terms of power, and that was without taking into account the differences in skill and technique. To hear that Marcus fully planned to utilize his Psychic powers was seen as something akin to a once-in-a-lifetime experience, off to the side, she could see a number of the Vanir taking out Tablets to make notes on, probably planning to use this as a cross between a learning experience and a historic even that had to be recorded at all costs, right down to the barest of details. Still, if there was one thing she found funny about the situation, it was that Marcus had yet to catch on to their worship of him as an their Creator-God and Incarnation of Might, Craft, Skill and Cunning.

"The channel is ready for you, Great Father." The Warden replied, bowing deeply as Marcus nodded to the man.

"Good. Now then." With a thought, the channel was open, his words echoing through the entire fleet.

"Attention! Soldiers of the Aesir Collective! Today, we stand on a knife edge! We face an abyss on either side that might threaten to devour us whole. On one side, we have this 'Imperium of Man', an Empire built by a Tyrant who things he is the one who shall unit all Mankind into one Empire. He believes that any who refuse should be subjugated, enslaved, and lead around like hounds on a leash, he cares nothing for the beliefs of the people that are crushed under his Iron boot, taking them away and replacing them with his 'Imperial Truth'." He spoke passionately, more than a dozen Aesir in the room were mesmerized by what was being said, more than a dozen had recording devices out, some even had professional cameras out, having tucked them away, under their stations.

"On the other side, we face oblivion. To be so thoroughly crushed that not even the memory of all that we have built together, all that we have struggled for, all that we have bleed for, would be throw away, to be lost to the sands of time." He stated, raising both hands, as though offering two choices. "Those are the two options that these _Imperials_ would have us believe, to have us see: Subjugation, no matter how beautiful the wrapper that is placed on it, with our technology taken from us, stripped away by those that don't even understand it and out culture utterly destroyed, removing our people from existence, as the death of a people is the death of its culture. Or, the other choice, oblivion, to stand against their 'might' and perish for our defiance."

Throwing his hands down, he looked around the room with an amused grin.

"Well, Soldiers of the Aesir, I don't know about you, but I feel the need to take a third option: Freedom! We shall force them out, fight them and destroy them wherever they may try to attack us from! We shall stand, unconquered and unbowed, not matter what they do! And, whatever happens, we will rise above it as one people! One race! One Voice! One Nation! Tell me, what's say you all!?" He shouted out and, as one, the fleet answered.

"We Are Aesir! We Will Not Bow! We Will Not Break!" They shouted, the volume deafening, and would have left any normal Human in the room deaf for the rest of their lives.

"Then, my Aesir, I believe that it is time for these Imperials to learn the folly of angering the Aesir." He stated before turning the communication line off. It wasn't needed as the cheering and agreement was heard clearly even through the Void between each ship. Marcus smirked as he closed his eyes and focused, an amused smile dancing across his face before he opened his eyes once more, revealing not his original eyes...

But orbs gleaming with absolute power.

Hair stood on the back of her neck as she felt his power ripping into the very fabric of reality, charging the air before weaving the newly freed energy into the very core threads of reality itself. To those with the power to see it, what he was doing was an ultimate showing of skill and power as he pulled the stitches of reality apart, carefully pulling a tear open into the Warp before it appeared. The massive rip in reality itself, like a sore wound, was not what they saw, instead, they saw a shimmering tunnel of cyan light, white light in the distance as Taenera watched.

Taenera had taught Marcus much about the ways of manipulating the energy within the Warp. However, one thing she lacked was knowledge of the Webway, she knew how to access it and how to navigate it, to an extent, but with it shattered into millions of pieces, such things were infinitely more difficult. Marcus had hoped to learn how the Webway was created in order either repair or replicate it, though, she hadn't been able to help in such regards, what she _had_ been able to do was point him in the right direction. Old memories of travelling through the Warp, watching Old Ones expand the Webway to create new strategic supply lanes along with methods of flanking the Necrontyr.

Marcus had taken such things and figured out a few things of his own, namely, he had figured out how to create short-lived, but incredibly calm, paths through the Warp, even taking advantage of the Warp's time altering nature to shorten journeys that should have taken months, or even years, to minutes. Of course, such a trick was costly, requiring massive amounts of power and control, not to mention knowledge, the Vanir couldn't do it due to their own lack of power, even groups of them would have great difficulties doing so. However, when used by Marcus in a way such as this...

Well, it just showed how powerful he _really_ was, especially when he threw his restraint to the side.

Entering the tunnel, Taenera smiled.

It was not a nice expression.

 **XXX**

As dawn came to the next day on Kilomiz, a number of things all happened at the same time.

In the void, reality was suddenly ripped open, a massive, gapping tearing forming within reality to show a cyan tunnel that spilled forth more ships of the be-leagued Aesir Collective. To the Aesir defenders, their hearts leapt into their throats as they saw the flagship of the fleet. Suddenly, the defenders redoubled their efforts, knowing that with the Great Father here, they would _not_ lose, if only so that he would not witness their failure. Suddenly, weapons fire became more accurate, the Hunter Mines started moving much more aggressively and the ravaged Battleships, already scared from the earlier battles, suddenly became far more active participants as they opened fire on the Imperial Fleet from, what the Imperials believed, outside of the maximum range of the Aesir weapon.

To the Imperials, what they saw coming out of the Warp rift was the stuff of nightmares as they saw the monster ships leading the fleet, three, 35 kilometre long monsters, all built by the Aesir and filled with Emperor-alone knows what kind of technology. The Imperial Captains and Admirals were already having difficulty dealing with the Aesir ships that they believed to be the limit of Aesir ship-building, not helped by the fact that Aesir ships punched well above their weight class. Now, they were looking at something that no ship could hope to match, against one of those massive ships, even an entire fleet would struggle, against all three, plus their attending fleet, this battle would not be a battle, it would be a bloodbath even greater than it had already been.

Needless to say, the Imperials soon learned that, when it came to the defense of their space, the Aesir reaction was much like that of an immune response, and it only came with one setting.

Extremely over-cocked.

The Void stood still for mere moments before the leading Dreadnought made its move, massive plates of armor moving away to reveal a massive turret rising from the dark, metal decks, it's body larger than a Cobra-class Destroyer with a massive barrel to go along with it. A moment later, light flared through the void before a Lance of energy flew across the void before anyone could react, between eye blinks, people realized it's target and made to react, commanding ships to either act as shields or to move the target out of the way.

It was a futile effort.

The lance of energy made a complete mockery of all attempts to dodge it, moving too swiftly as space itself seemed to twist at the beam's passing. Void Shields failed to stop the beam, not shattering upon impact, but being either burned through in such a way as to not collapse the entire thing, or twisted to one side to allow the beam through, it was impossible to say. Then, the beam hit the hull of the target, Adamantium armor plating, Ceramite reinforcements, Plasteel connections and any other material that was in the path of the beam simply failed to register as any real form of resistance as the beam kept going. It blasted a hole through layer after layer after layer of armor and defenses, never slowing, never stopping, before it eventually burst out the other side, leaving a substantial hole in the target ship as it moved on, the cannon that fired the beam having long since stopped firing as the beam finally left the hole behind.

Allowing all to see the power that was held in the hands of the Aesir.

The entire Imperial Fleet paused, hesitation weighing down upon them like a physical thing, draping itself over the entire fleet. Then again, it was little wonder why they were so hesitant to do such a thing, after all, it wasn't every day you got to see a Gloriana-Class Battleship be utterly obliterated within a single shot from an enemy vessel. And, even then, most could only look on in shock and horror as the _Hrafnkel_ was rocked back and forth by secondary explosions as life pods flew from the wreck.

Such a sight, especially for a fleet that had shadowed the Sixth Legion through victory after victory was nothing less than absolutely soul shattering. Many simply collapsed to the ground, some sobbing while others retreated into themselves in such a way that many would mistake it for a coma.

None of them would ever make a recovery, as they disappeared moments later within one of many beams of light.

Within an hour of entering real space, the orbit of Kilomiz was secure, a few Imperial ships still remaining, having been captured by order of the Great Father. No one questioned it, most simply didn't care, but a few looked at it and smiled evilly as they considered what they had learned of the Sixth from salvaged hard drives.

For such a mighty Legion to come crawling home with only a fraction of their strength, in utterly savaged ships and having lost a majority of their fleet...

Well... It would a dark spot on their history for millennia to come...

 **XXX**

On the planet of Kilomiz, as dawn broke the horizon, the Space Wolves had already started to move.

Emboldened by the speech given by their Primarch, they had started to move at the crack of dawn, loading themselves into any vehicle that still worked, hugging the ground as they moved and racing towards the nearest exit of the canyon with their Primarch at the head of the massive convoy. However, if one looked at the collection of vehicles, their eyes would have immediately spotted the form of the massive Titans stalking around the convoy, the five Warhounds at the front, the two Reavers around either side while the massive Warlord pulled up the back ranks.

It was an impressive display, made even more so as the convoy advanced under a shower of artillery shells exploding against the Void Shields, having ripped them out from the, now decommissioned, Stormbirds and altered them to prevent the use of Black Mist or Plasma warheads from affecting those within the Shield. To the Space Wolves, it was a blessing and a good omen, one they believed would lead them to victory this day, as their Primarch had foretold.

For the members of the Aesir and Storm Wardens, it was a minor inconvience, at best. They switched over to ammo types that would bypass Void Shields moments later and, once more, started raining down explosives upon the Space Wolves. Admittedly, the alterations to the Void Shields _did_ make them more effective at stopping the Void-Bypassing shells, but a fair number still managed to get through the Shields, dozens of Rhinos of various types were utterly annihilated, but not enough to cause them to stop and push back. The Space Wolves continued to move onwards, discarding their loses and making promises to come back 'later' to reclaim their dead, thought, such things would be entirely up for debate with the locals, who seemed none too pleased to see the members of the Sixth Legion.

Advancing through the Dead Man's Bowl, the Sixth Legion found itself under constant attack as Aesir Ravens flew over them, blades flashing and Melta-weapons firing, either cutting the head off one Space Marine or another or crippling entire vehicles and forcing them to be left behind, making them little more than target practice to the Ravens. In one example, one Raven even went through the top of a Rhino Advancer and turned into a full spin as he went over the Space Marines, cutting their heads off at the neck before carrying on, leaving a pile of corpses behind in the open-top APC. More than once, the convoy stopped to take care of their dead, placing them to one side as to not allow themselves to be slowed down while Wolves were redistributed to allow for move even firing lines.

Eventually, the Space Wolves managed to reach the cliff faces of the Dead Man's bowl, massive cliffs with natural paths cut into them by long usage and nature. The end result was a path just big enough for a Titan to climb up, if it moved in a certain way. Of course, that was only possible for the Reavers and the Warhounds, the Warlord was simply too large to try and scale the cliff face. Instead, it settled for offering fire support by blasting at the Aesir defense line built along the edge of the cliffs. The powerful weapons of the Warlord working to blast holes in the alloy walls that the Aesir had built, showing surprising durability as it needed multiple shots in the same place to break through the armor on the walls, let alone the Void Shields. Still, even as the wall feel around them, Storm Warden Gunners refused to be moved from their positions, firing at the Warlord with everything they had as its surface was crated with Plasma detonations, Grav-Implosions, Melta charge explosions and even damage taken from Airbursting Nano-Shredders that ate into the upper armor of the venerable machine.

Even as the Warlord was forced to pull back, as more and more rounds were thrown at it, the Space Wolves completely ignored the plight of their allies, advancing as directed by Leman Russ. The Primarch seeing things as it being a case of the Mechanicus had a problem with the damage to the Titan, that was their problem, not his. However, such thoughts soon meant very little to him as the first member of the Space Wolf convoy passed over the edge of the cliff face and came into view of the wall, quickly moving to one side before allowing another vehicle up. As the first vehicle stopped, a Rhino Advancer, the Astartes leapt out of the APC, jumping over the sides as they charged the broken wall with Bolters singing through the air and Power weapons hissing and steaming idly.

From the battlements of their walls, the Aesir rose to meet them, Sleipnir rising with Scimitar Mk. 21-Pattern Plasma Rifles in hand, firing bolts of Plasma that seemed to have been harvested from stars, burning the Power armor of the Space Marines, not destroying them out right, but doing damage with each shot as the distance was closed. Even then, Nilbugs were firing their heavy weapons, micro-missiles racing through the air and impacting Astartes, blowing them apart of coating them with more Nano-Shredders while their Rifle barked continuously, blowing holes through multiple Astartes with each shot. As the distance was reduced further and further, things slipped from a closing gunfight to a mass melee, something that the Space Wolves took full advantage of.

The Space Wolves fought the Aesir brutally, using their experience to devastating effect as they cut and stabbed and decapitated their opponents with practiced ease even as more Aesir rose up to join the fight, grabbing melee weapons from their armor and engaging the enemy. Still for every Marine that fell, twenty Aesir joined him, but that was not an even ratio as the Aesir gave as good as they got, the solid core of veteran Aesir especially reaping a devastating toll upon the Sixth Legion.

Leman Russ himself had to give a grudging respect to these Veterans, armored with a more decorative appearance than other Aesir, they fought like devils and made sure to sell their lives dearly. Fifteen of them arrayed themselves against the Great Wolf and, while the Primarch _did_ win in the end, it was a brutal fight that left massive rents in his armor along with a fair number of his Wolf Guard laying dead on the ground, thanks to the inhuman coordination and strength surpassing that of an Astartes. Things only got even more complicated as Vanir War-Hexers fought a constantly shifting battle against the Casters of Runes among the Space Wolves.

In such a battle, where even Reality may become a casualty, many subconsciously moved away from the constantly shifting, and colourful, display of otherworldly power that left much of the land twisted in one way or another.

Still, even with all that, the Aesir were stretching themselves to the breaking point, more forces were moving in as multiple Rexus Assault Mechs engaged Warhounds and even struck out against the Reavers, still, in the back of the defenders' minds, many wondered if reinforcements would arrive soon.

They didn't need to wait long for their hopes to be answered as they looked up to the overcast sky. The clouds were suddenly breached by dozens of descending shapes, looking like miniature fire bolts, the Aesir instantly knew what those were even as they continued fighting, morale restored and renewed. The Space Wolves, on the other hand, initially thought it was some kind of bombardment, resulting in them retreating for a moment as Leman Russ looked on as he tried to get what remained of his forces to safety.

It turned out to be unneeded as the First of the newly arrived Aesir arrived on the planet, slamming into the ground at terminal velocity before standing, pulling out weapons and aiming them at the, greatly reduced, collection of Space Wolves as they kept their distance in turn, weapons at the ready as a silence filled the air.

That silence was broken by the arrival of a singular figure, standing as tall as Leman Russ himself, clad in black armor trimmed with deep crimson and gold, with red lenses covering the eyes, it was clear this was not some standard grunt. This only became more clear when said figure spoke.

"I assume that you are this 'Leman Russ'? Humm... For some reason, I imagined you being slightly taller." Were the first words the figure spoke, much to the anger of the Space Wolves, and the amusement of the Storm Wardens and the Aesir.

 **XXX**

I smiled under my helmet as I looked at the snarling faces of the Space Wolves, Russ himself looked particularly murderous, but I hardly cared about him, I was confident that I could take him. Hell, I _knew_ I could take him after scanning the area, the Psychically charged Runes on his armor were of little consequence to me, weak things that could be shattered utterly with the right application of power through _just_ the right opening.

And I happened to see a lot of openings.

"... And you are?" Leman asked/demanded, through gritted teeth, seemingly trying to keep his temper in check. I smirked at that, pissed off people often made the biggest mistakes.

"Grimm, Marcus Grimm, at your service." I said with a dramatic bow that the Aesir behind me knew to be an attempt to enrage him further. One didn't need to be a Psyker or Vanir to know that it was working rather well.

"Cease your insecent games and speak, Mortal! Why are you here!?" Russ finally lost his cool for a moment as I looked at him, my smile gone and my eyes focused on him through my armored lenses. An air of power circled around me, filling the air with a tension of my own design as that same power weighed down on the Space Marines.

"Well, since you asked so _nicely_ , I'll tell you." With two quick steps, I was almost nose-to-nose with the Sixth Legion's Primarch, looking him dead in the eye as I spoke.

"I want you and your Legion off this world. I want the Imperium to leave the Aesir Collective alone. I want my people to flourish and thrive in an existence where only the strong may decide who lives and who dies. However, most of all, _Russ_ , I want to learn that there is always a Bigger Predator in this universe. And, _Russ_ , I'm afraid that many things are much stronger and dangerous than your rabid mutts." I remarked as he snarled, reaching for what looked like a Power sword that he had sheathed by his side. I smirked as he stopped mid action, a dozen red-dots dancing across his hand, chest and head, making it clear what would happen if he drew that blade. With what looked to be an exercise of supreme effort, Russ forced down his anger and pulled his arm back from the handle of his sword.

"... And _How_ do you plan to do that? I have a Legion in orbit along with a fleet ready to rain fire down upon this world. If it does not submit to the Imperium, it _will_ burn. Not only that, but I have you outmatched. Your warriors, while formidable at range, handle themselves poorly within a melee. Not only that, but I have a number of Titans that stand at my beck and call. What do you have, Mortal?" He asked, calming down with each word before finishing off smugly, believing himself to be in a supreme position of strength. I smirked under my helmet.

Oh, it was going to be _fun_ breaking this poor bastard.

"First of all, I plan to use force, if necessary, but I have my doubts that will even be needed. Secondly, your 'fleet' now numbers at less than twenty ships, none bigger than a Cruiser while every other vessel was been reduced to scrap within the Void. The rest of your 'Legion', at least, for those parts that came with you, are dead, all that remains are those that stand by you, meaning that you actual forces number less than four hundred men, while I have a few million behind me, all of which are of the same calibur that gave you trouble. Lastly, yes, I'm aware that you have Titans... Which is why I brought some of my own." I simply pointed up at that last point, Leman looked confused for a moment before he looked up. I enjoyed it greatly when I saw his eyes widening as he looked up.

Right into the glaring cyan eyes of a Jormungand.

 **XXX**

His name was Julius Vracson, Tech-Priest and Enginseer of the Cult Mechanicus. He, along with many others like him, had been assigned to the Crusade Fleet under the command of Primarch Leman Russ, it had been a trying experience, to be sure, but it seemed that experience had finally paid off.

The Primarch had found a new Human world, one with highly advanced technologies that was also under the protection of a relatively small interstellar nation known as the Aesir Collective. The natives were given the chance to submit to the Imperium, but refused, thus leading to the attempted subjugation of the planet. 'Attempted' because the natives had put up a much greater fight than was believed possible, with the use of so many technologies, some of which the Tech-Priest had never seen before. The archaically named 'Black Mist' was one such example of new technology, a weapon that, at first, appeared harmless before it proceeded to rip its target apart with abandon. Plasma-based weapons were also common, along with Anti-grav systems as they had seen dozens of plasma-based warheads detonating in one form or another, almost destroying everyone in their blasts while other weapons of unbelievable power were brought to bear against the Astartes of the Sixth Legion.

However, that was nothing compared to what he saw before him this instant.

Looking up into the sky, he saw _it_. A massive, serpentine war machine, longer than any Titan, with a body thicker than even an Emperor-class Battle Titan, it's black, silver and golden bold rolling through the over cast sky as it soared through the clouds before looping around itself, forming a lazy infinity sign with its own body in mid air before looking down at the proceedings.

Then, as the 'Mortal' pointed upwards, the others finally took notice of the Beautiful craftsmanship of a favored disciple of the Machine God, many being paralyzed by its brilliance as he knew such a sight would be burned into his memory centres for of his days.

Then, the Avatar of the Machine God opened its mouth to reveal massive teeth, larger than Land Raiders, before it _roared!_

The sound was very much a physical thing, shaking the very earth and causing the cloud cover to be shattered, excess water being thrown around by the shockwave before it settled down for a moment before the silence was suddenly broken by the scent of Ozone and the iconic flash of a Volcano cannon being fired at the newly discovered God-machine.

"What is that fool doing!?" Julius snarled through his Vox-caster, his tone coming out harshly as he wondered that to himself, turning to regard the Warlord-class Titan as it started moving closer to the cliff face to get a better firing position.

It didn't get far.

The bolt of energy, having served no true purpose beyond attracting the attention of the Serpentine God-machine, splashed harmlessly over Void Shields that should have been on a Capital ship as the massive machine moved with an unearthly grace, turning to face the approaching Warlord with seemingly no concern. Even as more shots rained down on its shields, failing to do any damage, the Serpent-machine was had finally decided to put an end to the annoyance that was the Warlord Battle Titan and it's Princep. Opening its massive jaws, a small, nearly impossible to detect whine came from the jaws of the massive Alter to the Machine God.

What followed would be burned into his mind, as was anything to do with the God-Machines.

A Lance of utter darkness fired from within the jaws of the massive machine, firing and racing through the air before it impacted the Void Shields of the Warlord, overloading them in an instantly as the Lance suddenly caused an extreme detonation of some kind, the shockwave racing over the land as it blew over them, the Mortals taking cover to not be thrown around, but the Aesir and the Astartes simply stood through it and watched. Julius, having never taken his enhanced optics off the spectacle, watched further as the dust settled and he saw the remains of the Warlord.

It's form was utterly destroyed, it's left side was simply gone, the tattered remains of metal being visible while the rest of its body were covered in cracks and fractures large enough for them to see from their position. The head of the machine had been ripped off, simply gone while the legs looked close to snapping from their load suddenly being too much for them to take, not surprising since it looked like they had almost been torn in half.

Suddenly, the silence was ruined when, with the sound of stressing and snapping metal, the Titan fell to the ground like so many hundreds of tons of scrap metal. In the accompanying silence, only one person chose to speak, but Julius could hardly blame that, especially since he had the power to utterly annihilate them all without even noticing...

A fact highlighted when the Serpent-Machine turned back to the assembled group, jaws closed, but few had any doubts that it lacked any other weapons, given it's apparent size.

 **XXX**

"I take it, that that should serve as sufficient proof that you are out of your depth?" I stated calmly as I looked at Russ, rage was fighting with rational thought and, from the look of it, his rage was winning. I didn't really care all that much, I had no plans to kill him, his Sons? Maybe. Him? No. That would have only worked as a bigger incentive for Big E to come knocking at my door with the full might of the Imperium attacking from every direction, something that I knew the Collective wouldn't be ready for, if only due to having to be spread so thinly to counter it.

Still, glancing around, I saw the mood. The Astartes were anxious, but gripped their weapons with purpose, still believing that they could pull something off. The few surviving members of the Cult Mechanicus had their gazes locked on the Jormungand, not surprising, but very telling that not one of them had even bothered to look away, some were even humming strange tones in what sounded like demented static. I guessed that those were prayers to the Machine God.

"... You will die for this, Mortal." I heard whispered by the other Primarch. Faster than most, his hand gripped his sword before sending it in an left-handed swipe aimed for my neck, Power Field crackling through the air as I smelt the Ozone coming off the black. I sighed minutely before I reacted, my hand reaching out as it sheathed itself in a Power field, rapidly attuned before I caught the Power sword within the palm of my hand with insulting ease, holding it still even as Russ put his entire body behind that strike. His Sons, I gripped them all, reaching into the air around them and locking it in place, ensuring that they were unable to move anything but their heads, even their Psykers, wait... Sorry, _Casters of Runes_ were unable to get free from my grip as I blocked their connection to the Warp.

"... I suppose the old saying is true: You may be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but it seems that the reverse is false, you _can't_ teach a new dog old tricks." I spoke as Russ snarled at the implied meaning, or for some other reason that I hadn't seen yet. I didn't care as I shifted my thumb slightly before applying just the right amount of pressure, two centuries of warfare had given me plenty of time to augment my body even further, and it showed.

The blade snapped, Leman Russ, who had been putting his entire body behind the blade, collapsed forwards without it to hold him up as I retaliated with a left hook to the face. The punch blindsided Russ, catching him in the jaw and sending him for a short flight as he performed an involuntary back flip before landing on his back, having crashed into three of his Sons in the process. I walked calmly over to where the collapsed Primarch lay, his eyes showing that he was fighting through one hell of a concussion from the hit while my sensors showed me that, for one thing, his jaw bone was fractured, barely a step away from snapping entirely. I smiled at that, as I brew my own blade, the massive weapon having stayed, more or less the same since I had first used it during the Purges of the Orks and Tyranids from the Midgard system. I held the weapon, tip ready to plunge into the neck of the Primarch and decapitate him.

For a moment, I saw something that I never would have thought I'd see in the eyes of the Space Wolves.

Fear. Pure, primal fear and terror. It was a fear for their Father, their progenitor, that caused them all to freeze rock solid and cease any attempts to escape. I smiled at that, so this was what it took to make the Sixth Legion fear? Interesting... I'd need to keep that in mind.

"I could end your life right here and right now, Russ. I could slaughter what remains of your Sons and have their decapitated heads sent back to the Imperium, along with your headless body, your head mounted on a pike next to it and a message to your Emperor. I could do many things..." Slowly, I pulled my blade back a touch, holding it, but no longer having it hover above the life-thread of the Sixth Primarch.

"However, I have something else in mind." raising a hand, the earth responded as tendrils of stone rose from the ground, transmuting into Adamantium restraints that coiled around each Space Marine and held them fast, the Tech-Priests getting a similar treatment as I disabled the joints of the God-Machines with a thought.

"You will go back to your Emperor, not as conquering heroes, but as prisoners within your own vessels, unable to do anything but rage and hate, you may get freed in time." I stated as the last coffin formed, leaving their faces or helmets bare to see. "However, you will never forget this battle. You shall never forget that I held your life, and the lives of your Sons, in my hands, and I chose to grant you _Mercy_."

I smiled at that, as Russ continued to rage against his restraints. I knew a bit about the man, he was a warrior, one that believed that one should die on his feet, on the battlefield and that anything less was dishonorable. However, what I had done was, perhaps, the greatest insult that had ever been dealt to the Sixth Legion, I had defeated them, almost crushed them and almost taken the life of their Primarch, but, instead, I had chosen to grant them Mercy. To them, that was an insult beyond words, a stain on their honor as it marked them as being too weak to bother killing, too defenseless as to offer the chance to a fight.

It was to be a black mark on the victory streak of the Sixth Legion, one that they would never recover from, and one that I knew would haunt them for the rest of their days.

I smirked smugly at that within my helmet.

Just as planned.

 **XXX**

Throwing all his might against the restraints that confined him, Russ tried to get out from his entombment, failing miserably to do so as his restraints held fast, refusing to even budge a single millimetre. All around him, as Whelps carried them into one of the few remaining Imperial ships, an Apocalypse-class Battleship that had clearly seen better days, into place while the few crewmembers that remained in the ship were locked up in a similar fashion to the Astartes, but with less durable materials. It was understandable, the Mortals just wouldn't have the strength to break free.

Still, looking around, his eyes locked on to that _Bastard_ who had done this, glaring at the blank mask of his armor as he turned to regard the Imprisoned Primarch.

"Your destination is set, Russ. Be sure to tell your Emperor that he is not wanted here." Suddenly, the blade flashed through the air and Russ felt is scrap against his neck. "This... This was a warning. The next time, I shall send the corpses of his Sons back to him... In pieces, if needed."

With those parting words, the _Bastard_ retracted his blade and looked onwards, out of the Command bridge before his gaze seemed to focus on a particular point of space. Russ felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he watched with growing rage as the _Bastard_ utilized his Witchcraft for some strange purpose. Suddenly, Russ saw it, a rip in reality that suddenly grew wider and wider as they watched, edged in cyan light with a glow at the end, that glow only seemed to grow stronger and closer as he watched until it disappeared, replaced with a familiar image.

Terra.

The _Bastard_ looked at him once more, smugness radiating from him even as cyan wisps leaked through his armored lenses.

"Have a pleasant journey." He spoke mockingly before teleporting away, the scent of Ozone burning his senses before he felt the ship rumble as the portal grew larger in their vision. Within minutes, his body tingled as they entered, and passed through, the portal, leaving them with the familiar sight of Terra as Imperial ships swarmed around the planet, the garrison fleet looking like a demented hive of wasps that had just been hit with a Power Maul and were reacting accordingly.

It would be many hours before someone finally came on to the ship, heavy footsteps of an Astartes telling everyone who was coming, many of the Wolves dreaded what would happen, not liking the idea of others seeing them in such a dishonored state. Unfortunately, reality didn't wish to comply as the doors to the Command Bridge opened to reveal the white clad Luna Wolves, followed along by their Primarch, who took in the scene before him with a twitch of the lips and eyes dancing with mirth.

"Well, Brother, it seems that you are in quite the predicament." Commented Horus, as he did everything he could not to laugh out loud at his Brother's fate.

He failed after thirty seconds, followed by his Wolves an instant later as the members of the Sixth Legion alternated between trying to shrink into themselves in shame and glaring molten death at the Astartes of the Sixteenth Legion soon followed.

 **XXX**

AN: Ok, so, that was the introduction for the Aesir to the Imperium, things went to hell and a hand basket pretty damned quick. Things will only continue to be this way, especially with what I have planned. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	9. Repercussions and Meetings

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, here is the aftermath of what happened last chapter. It should answer a fair number of questions from the reviews so I'll not answer them in this section. I'd like to thank souvikkundu0017 for the help with this, as he was instrumental in making sure that I didn't make an ass out of this.

Enjoy!

 **XXX**

Standing within the Orbital Spire of Null-zana, the capital of Kilomiz, Marcus looked out upon the city from his rapidly refurnished office. The Office itself was much like the one back in Asgard, looking out from the massive spire that stretched dozens of kilometres into the sky, even into low orbit as to allow transports an easier time of taking the recently harvested Ores, refined metals and fabricated parts off to other worlds for one purpose or another. As night fell, the city at the base of the Spire filled the air with light from the apartment complexes of tens of millions of people while automated guns remained ever vigilant of any form of attack.

"I take it that you have the results I asked for?" Marcus suddenly asked, not turning from the window as he looked outside, seeing Sky Cranes moving around, often carrying massive cargo pods filled with one thing or another.

The room was silent for a moment, right before a voice rang out through the air.

" **Yes, my Lord. The data-mining of the Imperial computer networks is complete and I have finished cataloging the results for your review, as you commanded, my Lord.** " Marcus turned around to see the speaker. Most people would have been paralyzed in both shock and terror at what they saw, Marcus merely acknowledged what stood before him.

It was a massive being, three and a half metres tall with figure hidden by thick slabs of armor plating covered the body, made from golden plates inscribed with potent Aesir Runes, each Rune practically glowing with a soft green light while ribbons of blue ran along the armor's surface. From the shoulders, a long cape of blazing blue trimmed in gold hung down to the figure's ankles while a massive, decorative spear was held in one hand, the twin-prongs of the spear standing apart atop the weapon while runes ran along the metal shaft of the weapon. Finally, the helmet of the figure was intimidating, a blank faceplate carved into the likeness of an old man, his mouth set into a stern frown while a stylized eye patch covered one eye, the other being left uncovered, but was visibly glowing with green energy. Atop the helmet, two straight horns came out from the helmet and pointed upwards, adding another twenty centimetres to the figure in question.

"Give me your analysis, Odin." Marcus requested as he turned to the gestalt entity that had appeared within his chamber, nodding slightly at the towering being before him as he took a seat.

" **Projections show that short-term resistance to the Imperium is possible. Multiple Incursions can be, simultaneously, repelled with minimal loses if forces have been deployed and equipped to an adequate extent. Current analysis shows that Beta-level Wargear would be required for such a thing to occur, though it would be recommended to reinforce the outer boarders with more Veteran forces of Elder-Grade and upwards.** " Marcus nodded at that before continuing onwards.

"And the long term?" The Primarch asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions of one course of action or another. The glow within the eye of Odin seemed to dim slightly before the figure continued.

" **The Imperium, using superior numbers and a willingness to utilize Anti-planetary weaponry, will crush the Collective within two centuries should it come to open warfare. While considerable, the industrial output of the Imperium outmatches that of the Collective by several orders of magnitude, with new ships finishing construction every other day from dozens of 'Forge Worlds' across their conquered territories. The mass deployment of Jormungand-class Titans would serve to extend the time taken for full conquest, but it would only do so by a single century.** " Odin explained, sending data packets to the Great Father to show the results of the findings with more detail being shown, the end results were rather terrifying. However, instead, Marcus merely nodded in acknowledgement of these facts and moved on, not even slightly surprised by the outcome of these events.

"I suspected as much. Recommendations?" He asked, clearly looking for advice and counsel over how he should proceed, not an uncommon thing to do, especially when one ruled over an interstellar nation with significant power behind it.

" **Non-aggression pact in exchange for any number of conditions seems to be the most likely. Based on recovered information, said conditions would be the removal of numerous Aesir technologies, by force if necessary, and handing them over to the organization designated as the Mechanicus. Other, less favorable, results vary between anything from simply being left alone and ignored to being reduced to a literal slave race of the Imperium.** " Odin predicted, using the gestalt's overwhelming computational power to calculate the most probably future far more accurately than any Psyker could hope to match.

"Hmmm... Can't say that any of them sound all that favorable. Best case is that we become too valuable to destroy while the worst case is either death, or worse, at the hands of the Imperium. Can't say that I agree with either choice." Marcus remarked with a half-smirk, amusement clear in his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What about the results from the genetic analysis? I felt something... _Off_ about Russ when I encountered him. Care to shed some light on that issue?" Marcus inquired, curious as it was true, he had felt... _Something_ when he had faced the Primarch of the Sixth Legion. Odin nodded at that as two images appeared between them.

" **You are right to suspect that something is afoot, my Lord. As you already knew, your own genetic code shows clear signs of being engineered. However, while I can detect similar aspects within the DNA of Leman Russ, the sample shows clear signs of having mutated as a result of being exposed to outside elements, possibly as a result of whatever planet he had been raised upon. However, regardless of the mutations within his genes, the techniques and methods used to create and modify both his and your DNA show less than four percent difference between them.** " Odin turned towards the Great Father, pausing for a moment, as though in deep thought.

" **It appears that Leman Russ, and this 'Horus Lupercal' are your Brothers, for lack of a better word, My Lord.** " Odin stated simply as Marcus took a moment to absorb that fact, leaning back heavily into his seat as he glanced to the ceiling.

"And that, by process of elimination, means that the Emperor of the Imperium also happens to be my progenitor... _Great_..." The Great Father remarked as an armored hand came up and gently kneaded the bridge of his nose before sliding over and massaging his temples.

"Thank you, Odin, you may leave." Marcus remarked as he dismissed Odin from the room, only for the figure start moving, before stopping for a moment, as though hesitating. Marcus noticed, but said nothing as he let Odin make the first move.

" **... May I ask you a question, my Lord?** " Odin asked hesitantly as Marcus nodded.

"You may." He replied simply.

" **Why have you not connected to the Field yet? I know that you have the proper implants to allow such a thing, and yet, I have not felt you connected to the field. Why? If you entered the field then your powers would only increase in potency, perhaps even enough to match the might of this 'Emperor', if only for a short time based on my own findings.** " Odin asked, Marcus answered, in turn, with silence that stretched to fill the room, neither of the two speaking for a long moment before Marcus finally broke the silence.

"... Despite popular belief that I am blind to that which happens around me... I am fully aware of how the Aesir see me, not to mention the fact that I know that they worship me as a Creator-God. Technically, such a statement is true since I am, indeed, capable of creating life, but I do not believe myself a God. I have _never_ believed myself to be a God and never wished to stand above my creations in any way, shape or form. I asked them to follow me, yes, I became their leader, yes, but I never wished to become an icon of reverence and prayer. I fully intended to stop such things before I noticed something, their belief, their prayers, were having a tangible effect on the universe around them." Flexing his left bicep, the Great Father continued.

"There has always been a bleed-over effect, even without being connected to the Field, I can still feel some of the power from their beliefs leaking into me, making me stronger for it as time goes on. However, the reason why I do not fully connect to the your Field, Odin, is twofold." He remarked as he leaned forwards in his chair, hands clasped on the desk before him. "The first reason is because if I do connect to the network, all the excess power will flow straight to me, something I do not wish to happen as I would have preferred that such power be held in reserve by you, hence why I have also ordered you from staying your hand in battle until the time is right. The second reason is more personal; If I joined the network, then all Aesir would be able to see the power I wield, even with the restrictions I have placed upon myself in order to not destroy everything around me, I am still more powerful than any group of the five strongest Vanir put together. If they could see such power, they might see it as proof of my own divinity, let alone the fact that it would only increase the religious fever among those that worship me as they would believe that I was merely being 'humble.'"

" **I understand, my Lord. Thank you for answering my questions.** " Odin replied with a nod before it started fading away, disappearing in a shower of green sparks and energy until nothing was left. Marcus simply stared at the spot where the gestalt had once been. A slight smile on his lips as he spoke once more, his voice low as his hands spread across his desk as Hololithic projections appeared around him, a more thorough investigation of Odin's predictions.

"... Your welcome, and I thank you, Odin, for standing by me for so long." His voice was low, so low that any Human would have failed to hear it even if they had their ears pressed to his mouth. However, it was clear that Odin did hear him, as the room seemed to brighten as more hololiths appeared around the Great Father, displaying more information, suggestions about how to change the predicted outcome that had been foreseen.

It would take a lot of work, but it was only to be expected.

The future may not be set in stone, but the very paths to it could be set in solid granite at times.

 **XXX**

"Thank you, Leman. Return to your Legion and rest. You have given your Brother and I much to discuss." Commanded the Emperor of the Imperium of Man as he sat at a table, one of his Sons, Leman Russ, standing on the opposite side while his other Son, Horus Lupercal, sat on his left. The massive room was filled with his Custodes and all stood a silent vigil over the room, hands filled with their weapons and giving the appearance of being little more than statues to the uninformed.

"Aye, All-Father." Russ acknowledged as he bowed the head, not bending the knee, but that was to be expected. After all, Russ had just suffered a major defeat at the hands of another Human nation, and, if that wasn't enough, his pride had been shredded and he had been utterly humiliated. Due to such things, he was looking for ways of building himself back up, even subconsciously through the little things. The Emperor had seen it dozens of times before, in similar warriors throughout his long existence, this was nothing truly special besides the person that was doing it.

Russ turned and left the room, his pace fast and purposeful as he had become protective of those that had survived the first encounter with the Aesir, seeing them as survivors and wished to see them honored for enduring that hell. It was understandable, to want to protect what little remained of three Great Companies with a total of 12,200 Astartes, the survivors numbering at less than four hundred.

As soon as Russ was out the room, Horus turned to the Emperor, who had his chin cupped in thought as he considered many of the things he learned from this event.

"What shall we do, Father? While I hesitate to say that we should annihilate a Human nation that has so much to offer, what happened cann _ot_ go unanswered. The deaths of so many Astartes must be punished in one form or another." Horus remarked as he sat by his Father's side. The Emperor nodded at that, silent for a moment, before he spoke.

"You are right, Horus, but this... Event, has become far more complex than I had originally imagined." The Emperor explained simply as Horus looked at his Father curiously, wondering how the situation had changed as his Transhuman mind ran through any number of possibilities. His mind darkened with some of this thoughts as they each got progressively worse and worse, only to get cut off by the Emperor beginning to speak once more.

"When that... Portal, for lack of a better word, opened, I was able to detect a number of things. First of all, Horus, tell me, how long would a journey normally take to get to the planet that Leman engaged these 'Aesir'?" Horus looked on in interest as he ran the mental equations through his mind, considering the answer as he remembered reports and estimates given by Navigators that had to travel around the Eye of Terror.

"Two years, with a favorable Warp current. Three years without and anywhere from a fifteen years to a century or two with an unfavorable current. Why do you ask?" Horus looked at his Father's face, it was etched in stone and showed nothing, but having spent many decades fighting alongside his Father, Horus knew how to read it, at least, when the Emperor wasn't intentionally masking all of his tells. He saw clear interest and amazement in the eyes of his Father, only making Horus more curious.

"Then, it seems that the Aesir have a few tricks up their sleeve, as those Navigators that survived the engagement and were shipped back to us reported that they had only been travelling through that portal for _minutes_ , at best." Those words, delivered seriously, sent implications running through the mind of the Primarch as he considered it. If the Aesir had such a capability, then they could move around with such speed on a strategic level that there would be no way to effectively counter them. They could attack at unprotected worlds along within the heart of Imperial territory and be gone before reinforcing fleets even arrived to render aid to the defenders, not only that, but attacking them in turn would be a very difficult task, as reinforcements could appear practically instantly, especially if given early warning.

"That... Is impressive..." Was all Horus said as he tried to push aside the implications as a dozen, nightmarish visions floated through his mind, not helped by the vastly superior technologies of the Aesir. The Emperor nodded at that, he was in full agreement over the statement as even he, with all his millennia of experience, had never heard or seen of such a thing, he didn't even know where to start to replicate such a feat.

"Indeed, however, what makes it even more impressive was that such a feat was carried out by a single person, this 'Marcus Grimm' that Leman mentioned as being the Psyker responsible for his defeat." Horus looked at his Father in worry.

"I do not believe that a battle against him would be wise, Father. Even if we gathered as many Legions as we could to bear down on the Aesir, I have little doubt that they would drag the fighting out, bleed us for every light-year of space and every metre of dirt." Horus remarked, already turning to recovered pic-captures and pic-reels of the battles, of the Aesir fighting the Space Wolves with just as much determination and stubbornness as the Space Wolves themselves. Yes, many Aesir had died, but they had ripped into the Space Wolves with something akin to brutal fury and hatred, a willingness to see their enemies bleed to ensure they took not a step further. Fighting them would be a difficult task, not impossible for an Astartes Legion, but definitely one not taken lightly, especially when other options were still on the table. However, just as he was about to speak once more, he looked at his Father only to stop when he saw the expression of the Emperor.

A small smile gracing his lips while a knowing gleam shun from within his eyes.

"I agree with your assessment of the situation, Horus, but I believe such a thing is unneeded. After all, it would not do if we tried to kill one of your Brothers after such a terrible first impression." The Emperor remarked, causing Horus's mind to freeze still at the implications of such a thing, his mind wondering to consider who his newly-discovered Brother could have been before a question appeared within his mind.

"How do you know that one of my Brothers leads the Aesir?" He asked, curious as the Emperor snorted in amusement, seemingly finding it funny that his Son would ask such a thing, it was understandable, though.

"All my Sons carry a unique presence around them. I have felt the presence of all of my Sons, yourself included, before you were whisked away by the Warp, even across vast distances, I can feel them. However, this Brother of yours has learned to hide himself well, I only found him when I touched the power that created the Portal, but, no matter how well hidden, it felt him, one of my Sons." The Emperor stated as Horus smiled widely, beaming in joy.

"Then I shall marshal my Legion at once! We will head for the Aesir Collective at best possible speed and shall meet this new Brother." Horus stated as he almost bounced out of his seat as the Emperor nodded.

"I shall be coming with you, Horus. Though, I would advice only bring a small force of your Legion, as I do not doubt that after his encounter with Russ, your Brother will have ordered a number of reinforcements to be deployed along the borders facing the Imperium." The Emperor paused, as though he was considering something. "Though, I would recommend bringing along the Second Legion, as it is their Primarch we shall be meeting."

"The Second? Very well, Father." Horus stated as he took the unspoken dismissal and left the room, plans already turning and questions bubbling within his mind as he wondered what his new Brother was going to be like. Though, if his Collective and his Legion were any indication, then Horus would guess at him being both a skilled craftsman along with a skilled Psyker.

Still, such things were merely guesses and theories, he would have to wait to meet his new Brother in order to find out.

 **XXX**

He could not tear his gaze from the sheer magnificence before him. The images had been played over dozens of times by millions of Tech-priests of a thousand different ranks and positions, yet none could bring themselves to not watch such images again and again and again.

The massive serpentine form was impressive, an engineering marvel that had amazed even the most devoted of the Machine God's disciples while the sheer power that the massive God-Machine seemed to release simply by existing was felt even through such recordings and images. It's body was smooth, angular and cut an impressive figure while armored plates no doubt hid great secrets to the construction of such a relic. And, when the images progressed to reveal the true power of this new form of God-Machine, many could only watch in awe as it it's open mouth produced a beam of pure destruction and ruin that saw the near total eradication of one of the strongest types of the God-Machines as though it was swatting a annoying insect that had drawn it's attention.

From the way it had reacted to the fire of a Volcano cannon, to the method of destruction, one could argue that such a metaphor was rather apt for such a situation, especially given how it seemed to float in the heavens, it's body in utter defiance to the laws of reality as gravity found no purchase on this Shrine to the Machine God. Already, there was much talk amongst the higher ranks of the Mechanicus, to send a fleet to find those who had built it and offer them a high place among their ranks for such a creation, as was only proper for one so blessed by the Machine God.

Even then, they had already heard back from members of the Second Legion about how the Emperor and Primarch Horus were planning to travel to the home of this Serpent God-Machine and meet with the Primarch of the Second Legion. It was a shock to discover, but once that fell into place, many soon realized that the new God-Machine _must_ have been the product of the Primarch of the Second Legion, who were all jumping for joy at the thought of meeting their progenitor while the more veteran warriors of the Legion waited for the other shoe to drop, unsure of how their Primarch would view them.

Still, the Mechanicus, and himself, had confidence in the Second Legion. The Second Legion had been great friends and allies with the Mechanicus since the moment the Treaty of Mars had been signed. While many in the Imperium and the Legions viewed them as overly-dramatic mystics and Cog-obsessed idiots, the Second Legion viewed them as friends, allies and teachers as they learned the sacred lore of the Machine Spirits. The Legion was known far and wide for having every member schooled in the Lore of the Machine Spirits along with being some of the most technologically adept Legionnaires among the Imperium. They fought through many methods, but they were best known for their psychic and technological might.

He had once had the honor of fighting beside them, and the sight had been awe inspiring. A march of dozens of sacred combat automata, war machines and weapon-equipped Servitors backed up by their Astartes masters who had thrown bolts of Aetheric energies around and smiting the enemies of Man.

Kelbor-Hal had seen this happen, fought beside the members of the Astral Gear Legion and called many of them his friends.

Now, as the Magos quickly sent out messages to his allies and contacts, scrambling to put together a suitable fleet to aid in the meeting of the Primarch of their greatest allies.

They owed the Astral Gears as much for standing by them.

And if there was one thing that could be said about the Mechanicus, it was that they repaid their debts, especially to their comrades.

 **XXX**

Looking at the data slate held between surprisingly steady hands, First Forger Marteleus Tarincus looked down at the message before him, delivered by a surprisingly happy Scribe that had moved out of the room from the armored Astartes the moment that his duty was complete. However, to the First Forger, such things as the location of the Mortal Scribe were of very little importance when compared to the information that had been planted before him as his mind tried, and failed repeatedly, to accept the information that was displayed before him.

The Primarch of the Second Legion had been found!

It took over five minutes, an eternity to the Transhuman mind of an Astartes, for Marteleus to finally accept it, after running 23 separate system checks to ensure this was not some kind of cruel prank or joke from the Sixth Legion.

It was not.

A flurry of motion followed as the First Forger shot up from his seat, his bulk and augmented might flipping the table before him over, causing data slates filled with reports to be thrown across the room. Marteleus cared very little for such things, reports could be replaced, data slates could be replaced, but such news as this needed to be shared as quickly as possible. In his haste, the Astral Gear didn't even slow down as he rammed into the door of his chamber, augmented by both his custom-upgrades to his Power armor, his Transhuman autonomy and his psychic might, he didn't even slow down as the door crumpled away from him, spraying the empty corridor with shards of metal as the Marine race onwards.

As he moved, Marteleus couldn't help but feel a slight knot of anxious energy buried in his gut. It was understandable, really, the Astral Gears were not like other Legions, they did not fight like other Legions, and they chose to be like that as they did their duty. To the Astral Gears, there was no honor or glory in battle, it was not seen as something to brag about, merely an event that needed to be endured, survived, while the battle itself was often seen as simply being a waste, whether in resources, manpower or time, it mattered little. They happily did their duty, as it was given to them, but they never fought like other Legions.

Where other Legions would happily march and meet their enemies on the fields of battle, the Astral Gears looked for every advantage, every force multiplier, and brought it to their side before attaining victory before the first Bolt Shell was even fired. In that regard, they had many such advantages: Each member of the Astral Gears was both a potent Psyker, about average in strength, but still leagues above that of any Mortal that would wish to test his might against them. They specialized in Biomancy with a distinct affinity for using their Warp-give powers to repair and augment their equipment, the former trait being invaluable to their Apothocaries while the latter proving invaluable for ensuring their vehicles always worked in the field, that no problem with them lasted longer than was necessary. Of course, if that wasn't enough, each member of the Legion was taught the Secret Lore of the Machine Spirits due to their close ties with the Mechanicus.

Due to that last point, each member of the Astral Gears had custom equipment that was constantly being changed, upgraded, modified and replaced, making it difficult what each Marine would wield in a fight, sometimes changing between battles. Each wore Power Armor that had been changed and upgraded a dozen times, each equipped with a potent Servo-harness carrying their tools while most also carried high-tech weapons of their own design, checked over by veteran members to not be heretekal in nature. Marteleus himself was no exception, wearing a customized suit of armor more in line with the first designs of Cataphractii-Pattern Tactical Dreadnought Armor due to sheer bulk, eight Servo-arms extending from his back and a bulky pack containing a Personal, site-to-site, Teleporter device that would give him surprising mobility on the battlefield. Along with that, the First Forger was armed with a pair of twin-linked Melta guns mounted on either forearm, a mind-liked Heavy Bolter mounted on his left shoulder with an underbarreled Grenade Launcher and a large Power Halberd that was taller than he was, with the shaft reaching the top of his armored bulk while the spear-like blade extended another half metre above that, making the blade just over 3.6 metres tall.

Of course, even with all their customizations, the Astral Gears rarely fought openly, and never fought fairly, much to the disgust of other Legions. They would come into battle with dozens of custom-crafted weapons ranging from Lasgun-equipped Servitors that would advance on enemy lines before detonating due to the multiple Plasma Grenades built into them to more interesting ideas. Anything and everything was seen as a resource by the Second Legion, who would use it to minimize the waste of their own resources, while maximizing that of their enemies.

Still, such thoughts soon took a back seat as he smashed through the doors to the Mess Hall of their Battle Barge, _Necessity_. The room was filled with other Astral Gears, all wearing custom armor that they maintained themselves, all coloured in dark crimson, blue and gold with the golden gear covered in blue fire on their Pauldrons. On the tables, food was laid out with dozens of half-built devices while the Gears of the Legion argued, laughed and discussed how to build each device amongst themselves.

Such talk ended rapidly when the First Forger came running into the room, literally battering down the armored door to the room and moving at a speed that, while very impressive, should have been impossible to reach with anything but a Javelin Attack Speeder. It said much that the immediate reaction to this sudden entrance was for every Marine to have their weapon drawn and at the ready before putting them down an instant later with sheepish looks between them.

The First Forger did not begrudgen them such a reaction, as was the normal reaction when a member of the Second Legion was lost in thought. Looking around, he saw the bare heads of a dozen members, highlighting their mutations of silver eyes and silver hair, an odd, but harmless mutation that the Second Legion was more than happy to live with.

However, in the silence that followed his surprise entrance, the First Forger spoke.

"Brothers of the Second Legion! I come bearing great new!" He spoke, his voice enhanced by the Vox-caster in his armor as all was still. "The Emperor has sent us a message to marshal our forces and join him, Primarch Horus of the Sixteenth Legion, on a journey to Segmentum Obscurus and travel to a world that the Space Wolves have _failed_ to bring into Compliance!"

The room was filled with mocking cheers and laughter at that, all members of the Second Legion holding a grudge against the members of the Sixth for the continued mocking of their skills, the skills of their allies in the Mechanicus and the comparisons of who had conquered the most planets. The Second Legion cared little for such things, but it still grated on their nerves, now though, the Astral Gears had something they could hold over the heads of the Sixth, if only to get them to shut up. As the cheers died down, the First Forger continued, his voice filled with a curious mix of excitement and anxiety that seemed to not fit the leader of the Legion.

"However, thanks to the great power of the Emperor, we now stand at a monumental occasion.. For, you see, Brothers... OUR PRIMARCH HAS BEEN FOUND!" The shout could not have been louder if it tried, shaking the room as dust feel from the ceiling. All was still for but a moment before the hall, nay, the entire _ship_ rocked back with the cheers of over ten thousand Legionnaires, over a third of their fighting strength concentrated in one location.

Messages were soon sent out to follow the announcement as all ships of the Astral Gears made best possible speed towards the Segmentum, all regard for not burning out their engines were completely disregarded as the members of the Astral Gears carried out whatever modifications were deemed necessary to squeeze even more speed out of their vessels.

It came as no surprise that, even with a five week head start, the Astral Gears arrived over two weeks ahead of both the Luna Wolves and the Emperor himself.

Such was their determination to finally meet their Primarch.

 **XXX**

I had to admit, I was nervous.

When I had sent Russ packing, that had been a calculated gamble. I knew that doing such a thing _could_ result in a Imperial fleet mustering for retribution, I also knew it could serve another purpose, namely, to get the Emperor to investigate what had happened. That was my goal, to grab the attention of Big E himself and force a compromise to ensure the safety of my people, I'd already talked it over with them, no one liking it, but many understanding it and accepting it. The Aesir were pragmatic as a whole, many of them seeing this as a necessary move for the sake of survival, others were just annoyed that they would have to toe the line with a bunch of technological primitives who wouldn't know how to use a Nano-fabricator with written instructions and a guide to show them how to use it.

The Hecatonchires were the most annoyed by that last point.

I considered it a good thing that the Aesir obeyed me as much as they did in this situation, if only to prevent a civil war from breaking out. Sighing to myself as I stood on the CIC of the _Invictus_ I closed my eyes and let my mind wander into the Great Ocean.

And I felt them, one at the head was like a beacon, the Neverborn of the Sea of Souls shying away from it while it's glow working to prevent any of the ships in the gathered fleet from being lost to the cruel tides of the Immaterium. I saw the massive golden vessel that I correctly guessed to be the Emperor's, where the beacon was located, while I saw a dozen other ships encircling it, emblems of a Wolf biting down on a white crescent decorating their hulls. The Luna Wolves, with their Primarch as well, since I could feel someone on the leading Battle Barge, similar to Russ, Horus, I imagined. There was also a few ships that seemed to bear he markings of the Mechanicus, a convoy of ships with an triplet of Ark Mechanicus at the head of it, surprising, but understandable given the technology I had. Finally, there were more ships moving around the fleet, heavily modified and some of them looking to be at risk of blowing out their thrusters and seeming to be straining on a leash as they tried moving ahead of the fleet. I noted the emblem on them, a golden gear wrapped in blue Warp fire while I felt the active signatures of a dozen Psykers from within these ships.

All of these signatures feeling strangely... Familiar...

I sighed again, knowing that these were to be my Legion, gently, I brushed against the strongest of them, curious as I weaved through the fleet. Out of all of them, only the member of this new Legion felt my presence, along with the Emperor, the former looked around frantically within the Warp, looking for my presence, while the Emperor merely looked curiously at the surrounding Warp. I hide my presence well, my abilities with the Warp, Eldar knowledge and my own experience and practice with it, I had long since learned to shield my mind from the Warp, the Spirit Shield helping against the Neverborn, but I needed to work long and hard to hide myself, and my power, from other Psykers.

Opening my eyes, I spoke aloud.

"Warden Saekell. A fleet of Imperial ships is about to exit the Warp. Have the defense fleet stand ready, but have them make no attempts to open fire unless fired upon. Once the ships have transitioned back to real space, send them these coordinates along with this message." A thought-command later and the message was compiled and sent. With that, I turned and left the room, heading for the hangar of the _Invictus_ , already, gathered around me, I felt an honor guard of a dozen Elder Veterans, each one armed and armored with the best equipment that they could get their hands on.

I smiled at that, it was a secondary ranking system that the Aesir used along with the normal Grade rankings. Senior referred to an Aesir that had been in action over a century, Elder referred to those that had been around for over two hundred years and it was planned that Ancient would be placed at the four hundred years mark. It was also a cultural thing that those of greater age still outranked those of a higher Grade, if only due to their invaluable experience, and someone who was higher on both Grade and of age would have their orders followed to the letter.

Of course, that was also without getting into the finer details of the ODIN Field that infused them with more power as they aged, making them stronger as a whole.

 **XXX**

Sitting upon the command throne of the _Vengeful Spirit_ , Horus couldn't help but wonder what he could expect from his Brother. So far, he only had Russ to compare with, but that comparison had been rather accurate, if nothing else, especially given the boastful and savage nature of the Sixth Legion. His own Legion as well, were a mirror into his own character, pragmatic and forward thinking, willing to accept any tool in order to get the job done.

So, when he considered the Second Legion, he considered what characteristics to expect from his newly discovered Brother.

The Second Legion was one of pragmatism. They saw honor and glory as being less than worthless, their idea of an honorable duel was not rigging their opponents armor with a plasma grenade before the duel even started and they considered survival and the minimalisation of wasted resources to be their greatest objectives. They also never stood still, constantly changing, innovating and trying new things out even if they didn't work. Which, in itself, was a dangerous thing to have in an Astartes Legion. Normal Astartes would be dangerous enough, but ones that liked to increase their own lethality at an exponential rate were a nightmare on the battlefield.

Horus had the pleasure of having them fight beside his Legion during one battle, they had flooded the battlefield with Servo-skulls with Melta charges attached to them before having Gun-Servitors moving in to scout for survivors, anytime a Servitor was lost, the area it was lost to had been blown to pieces by a follow up bombardment of Heavy weapons to ensure that the survivors had died. It had been a thorough, methodical and utterly without mercy. The Second Legion had carried out their section of the fight without a word and had simply gone about it with as much glee and cheer as a Mortal would their own daily routine. However, when an obstacle had gotten in their way...

 _That_ was when things had gotten interesting.

During that campaign, the morally corrupt tyrant of that world had retreated to an underground palace, surrounded by his greatest body guards and emplaced within a strong hold that the Astartes simply could not get to. The Second Legion had seen it as a challenge and ended up building a device that almost cracked the continental shelf, killing the tyrant and utterly crushing the palace with millions of tons of rock and metal.

It was from that battle that the Second Legion gained a reputation for escalating exponentially in response to any obstacles that might have been put in their way.

Suddenly, Horus was brought out of his thoughts as he heard one of the officers on the Bridge calling something out as he looked up.

"We are ready to transit back to real space at your command, Lord Primarch." He spoke as Horus nodded.

"Commence the return to real space only after the _Bucephelus_ has returned to real space, but keep us close to the Emperor's vessel." Horus commanded as he saw the Emperor's ship already going through with its own transition back to real space.

"As you command, Lord Primarch." The officer replied as Horus watched the view beyond the Bridge start to change, the constant shifting of unreal colours and distortions giving way to a rift between dimensions as the _Vengeful Spirit_ began its journey through the rift, back to the materium beyond.

However, what Horus saw upon leaving the Warp was beyond what he imagined.

As his ship and it's attendants left the Warp, many of the Bridge crew could only look on in shock, awe and horror as they looked at the fleet arrayed before them. Massive ships made from angular hulls and massive slabs of metal with sharp lines of glowing gold. Gun ports hidden under heavy plates of armor with more insidious weapons hidden from sight, many wondered just what such vessel were capable of, though, most knew of the tales told by the survivors of the Sixth's failed attempt to bring the world to Compliance. They spoke of the largest vessels of the fleet, the 35 kilometre long monsters of metal, and how a single shot from their hidden guns had been more than enough to core right through the Gloriana-class Battle Barge of the Space Wolves.

As he subtly glanced around, Horus noticed many of his Bridge officers looking at the three ships at the centre of the Aesir Fleet, each one being one of those leviathans and each one looking ready for a fight even if their weapons weren't visible. As more ships came out of the Warp, the tension only grew as many tried not to let it affect them, but Horus still saw the odd bead of sweat dripping down from the necks of his mortal crewmembers.

"... I do not like this, Father." Came the voice of one of Horus's honor guard, First Captain Ezekyle Abaddon, from his side as Horus offered a snort of amusement at such an assessment.

"Oh, I have little doubt of that, Son, but the fact remains that we are here to recover a Primarch, a little tension will not kill you." Horus remarked to lighten the mood, getting a chuckle from his tightly wound First Captain.

"The Tension? No, that will do nothing against an Astartes. Their weapons on the other hand? I have read the reports from the surviving Space Wolves, along with those of the Fleet crews that survived the original battle. I have little doubt that _those_ could kill me." Abaddon remarked sardonically.

"Have a little faith, my Son." Horus remarked before another officer working on the communication system suddenly bolted up, his voice booming over the near-total silence of the Bridge.

"My Lord! We are receiving a transmission from the flagship of the Aesir Fleet. Text only." He remarked as Horus's attention was on him in an instant.

"Display it." Horus commanded as a hololith projection appeared before the Primarch, showing a message and a series of coordinates on the planet using the Imperial reference point from the original reports, a curious turn of events, but Horus couldn't help but feel that the coordinates were familiar. However, his lips twitched slightly as he saw the contents of his message.

 _I have things you want, you have things I want. Meet me here if you wish to speak._

The message was simple, but the implied message behind it carried ominous overtures that made him wonder what to expect. Horus paused for a moment, reconsidering it.

This was the Primarch of the Second Legion he was talking about, he should expect anything and everything from the Gene-sire of a Legion that had built it's reputation on being unpredictable, without a traditional view of honor and with a rather disturbing habit of escalating exponentially when faced with opposition that can't be destroyed through more... _Conventional_ methods.

Suddenly, Horus frowned as he finally remembered where he had seen those coordinates before; In the reports of the Space Wolves.

It was the location of their initial Breach head...

 **XXX**

Rockcrete walls over twenty metres tall, reinforced with Plasteel rods used like rebar while plates of Ceramite had been slide into the walls to further reinforce them. Half built Void Shield emitters were built into hidden passages within the walls and the Breach head itself while mountings were located all over the walls and ramps ran up from the massive courtyard of the Breach to the walls, allowing vehicles to use the upper levels as staging points for barrages of weapons fire.

I had to admit, even under nearly constant attack, the Mechanicus had done good work for a short-term FOB. The place had already been picked clean of materials of use with the actual fortifications due to be taken down some time later in the month, but they every system of worth had already been stripped out and rendered down into raw materials by the Hecatonchires. Now, before it was destroyed, I had commissioned it for one final purpose.

To serve as a place to discuss peace. I found the irony rather astounding and particularly funny since the Space Wolves had built this place as a staging point for an invasion that never came.

And, with luck, it never would.

 _"Great Father, two Imperial Aerospace craft are on approach. Designation of the craft has them labeled as 'Thunderhawks' and bearing the sigils of the Luna Wolves, the Emperor."_ I heard the words whispered into my ear as I gave an acknowledgement back to the sentry. Scattered around the remains of the fortress, I had dispersed my honor guard, each of them armed with Vanguard-Pattern Nano-Shredders, sniper rifle-like weapons that fired the potent rounds at extreme ranges. Each of them was hidden by an optical cloaking field along with Psi-Jammers and a Phase Iron shell, rendering them invisible to both normal methods of detection along with those used by Psykers. There were over two hundred of them, fifty of them being the snipers and the rest armed with heavy assault weapons and hiding in any crevice that they could find.

They were my insurance policy in case things went bad.

Squatting down by the top of one such battlement, I watched with interest as the three Thunderhawks landed, rather curious as to what was to happen next, even more so when I considered that I was seeing Thunderhawks when I thought they wouldn't be introduced into the arsenals of the Astartes Legions until much later. Mentally shrugging, I simply watched as the craft landed, ramps lowering before Power Armor clad warriors stepped out of each ship.

From the one bearing the sigil of the Luna Wolves, I saw the Justaerins moving out of the Thunderhawk, seven of them being lead by the First Captain of the Luna Wolves as they scanned the area for any threats, finding none before signaling for their Primarch to step out of the enclosed transport. I was honestly half tempted to have my soldiers simply kill the lot of those from the Luna Wolves, preventing them from falling to Chaos and, thus, preventing the Horus Heresy. However, I knew that such actions would only land me in one hell of a deep hole, so I restrained myself as I watched the 29 Custodes exit with weapons at the ready, all carrying Guardian Spears while Big E strode out of the vessel with an air of calm interest about him as I felt him scanning the area around him. I felt his psychic abilities wash over me, missing me thanks to the insulation granted to me by my suit of armor, I preferred having the advantage here, especially as I would need it to catch them off guard for when the negotiations started.

"Hmmm... It appears that we may have arrived ahead of him, Father." I heard Horus remark as I glanced at the conversation between them as the First Captain stood by them.

"If I may, I would suggest allowing us to set up defensive positions and create a killzone in case the new Primarch is not as friendly as his message implied." Abanddon stated in turn, getting a snort from his Gene-sire in turn.

"If that was friendly, then I'd hate to see how he reacts to those he hates." Horus remarked as I decided to make an entrance. I projected a psychic echo of myself into their midst, making it appear as though from thin air and then causing it to speak. I'd admit, the reaction of such was rather worth it.

 **XXX**

"Pray that you never find out, as I am not one to leave enemies at my back." The sudden, distorted voice appearing from behind Horus was enough to send all those gathered into motion as weapons were drawn and aimed at the figure that stood before them even as Horus reacted on instinct and drew his Power Maul, swinging it around and almost splattered the figure in question before stopping. Before him, he saw the black armor as it was described within the reports he had read, it's surface dull and seeming to be made from condensed darkness with spots of red decorating it's surface and a dozen plates of armor seamlessly fused together. Eyes looked at him from behind red lenses while the featureless face plate gave nothing away, it was as though he was looking at a golem.

From the corner of his eye, he saw his Father approaching with a look of interest present. Without a word, he reached out and touched the figure and watched as his hand slipped right through the being, informing them all of its nature as a projection. The Emperor merely raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I rather odd opening move. Do you not trust us so much that you would stay hidden even as we stand on a world that you control?" The Emperor asked. The figure shrugged.

"I am not in the practice of leaving myself exposed to a potential threat. I know of your power, Tyrant, and I know that putting myself in the open would only make me an easy target with one with your Psychic powers." The figure stated calmly, drawing a raised eyebrow at the notion as Horus looked on from the side, surprised by such a bold opening statement.

"'Tyrant'? I am no such thing." The Emperor remarked calmly as the figure snorted in disdain.

"The shattered worlds and devastated peoples left in the wake of your Crusade say otherwise." The Figure remarked in turn, causing an eyebrow raise from the Emperor, his expression curious at that.

"Oh? How so? I have merely done my best to elevate those that were separated from Humanity as a whole to finding their places within the Imperium." He stated as the figure, who Horus had a sneaking suspicion was really his newly discovered Brother, snorted once more.

"'A death of a people is the death of its culture.'" His new Brother remarked, as though quoting a great truism. "Data recovered from the memory banks within the ruins of the Space Wolves fleet tell of what happens after a world is subjugated... Oh, my apologies, I meant _Compliance_ , their world is stripped of its culture, beliefs and any resource of worth before being put towards producing more meat for the grinder."

"It is Humanity's Destiny to rule the stars, and as such, all must contribute towards such a goal, the Tithes of soldiers to join the Imperial Army are merely a part of that." The Emperor returned, firing back just as rapidly as the new Primarch.

"And, of course, if they don't comply, then you send in your Legions to _make_ them comply in short order." The projection countered sharply as it stepped forwards, looking the Emperor dead in the eye in a silent battle of wills that lasted less than a second, but felt like a lifetime from the perspective of many.

"However, much as I'd love to continue to debate the various things wrong with your Empire, we came here today to speak of other things." The man replied as an unseen command caused his helmet to retract, revealing his face for all to see.

White hair, cropped short and hugging his skull while silver eyes practically glowed with power. Noble features made up his face while thin lips were pressed into a decidedly neutral line that left little to the imagination as to his thoughts about the current topic.

"Indeed. Though, I would ask what you wished to speak of before we continue, as several topics spring to mind." The Emperor remarked simply as the man turned to him.

"You are here for many things: Myself, being a genetically engineered being of your own making; The technologies I had worked over the last two centuries to perfect; The knowledge that I have gained in the use of the Great Ocean; And the resources of the Nation that I have built from the ground up." The man stated factually, as they were facts, even the Emperor knew this as he nodded along, seeing no point in hiding such things from his newly discovered Son.

"However, there is a few problems with that. For one thing, I built my Nation from the ground up, I wished for them to survive and thrive, not to be subjugated to the whims of another that would strip them bare of everything that makes them unique and strong." The Emperor raised an eyebrow at that, interested in what his Son was saying, though rather amused by the turn of events, if only because he could see a number of ways that this could progress.

"Then you would refuse to join the Imperium and have war exist between two nations?" The Emperor remarked, getting a shake of the head from the Primarch.

"No, as I already know how such things would end. current projections put it at two centuries before we would fall, yes, we'd inflict terrible damage upon your nation in the process, but most of the damage would be repaired in a short space of time, helped by the fact that your nation has an industrial output that, while primitive, is several orders of magnitude higher than what the Collective has."

"So you would chose what? Remaining alone would only serve to make your kingdom a target for the Xenos that infest this region, not to mention the various marauding nations of tyrannical Humans that gave built themselves nations on the broken backs of dozens of slaves." Suddenly, the Primarch smirked as he regarded Horus, who had stepped forwards and joined the conversation.

"I find it interesting that you only present two choices; Submission and practical enslavement; or obliteration and literal enslavement. I find both options rather unacceptable for my people, which is why I will take option number three." Marcus replied with his smirk firmly in place.

"'Option number three'? And what would that be?" The Emperor asked, one hand cupping his chin in thought and amusement as he had only encountered two of his Sons so far, one had willingly submitted, the other had only submitted after a trial of combat. To find one that tested wits against him was rather interesting, something he hoped for in the future as, while he was a capable warrior, he preferred the arts of a Scholar by nature. Marcus merely smirked as he looked to the sky.

"Tell me, Tyrant, how familiar are you with the principle of Scorched Earth tactics?" The Primarch of the Second Legion inquired. The Emperor looked confused for a moment before the connection suddenly clicked into place.

"... I see, you would go that far to make a point?" The Emperor asked, rather impressed by the convictions of his newest Son, and rather proud as he was willing to ensure that his people remained as they were, even if it meant their deaths.

"I would go further if needed." Marcus stated, his words carrying many implications that only made the Emperor smile at his Son, a showing of character that was rare to see as he stood for his people, and he had the impression that the Aesir would rather die than surrender and submit to an outside power, if the rather... _Inventive_ refusal to Russ was any indication.

"Name your terms." The Emperor stated with his smile fixed in place, getting a raised eyebrow from the Primarch, asking him to explain as Horus looked on in shock as his brother had managed to negotiated with their Father. The Emperor merely smiled at his Son, wondering what would happen next with regards to his newly recovered child, as it wasn't often he meet someone that was actually willing to argue and stand tall in the face of his own presence and force of will.

"... The Aesir Collective remains separate from the Imperium, they stay outside of it while the Aesir their own territories, unless they are invited in by the Aesir. However, ten Aesir shall be granted Warrants of Trade in order to allow for trade between the Collective and the Empire. All technologies of the Aesir Collective shall remain as such with no one being able to simply take our technology for their own, unless they are gifted to another by the Aesir. The Aesir have the right to Self-govern themselves without Imperial intervention, and any attempt to do so shall be responded to with lethal force." The Emperor considered all of these and nodded in agreement, if anything, a number of them favored his side, with a few alterations, but he wished to add to them, if only to ensure that his Son still knew the score, as it were.

"I will agree to those, but only if the Aesir resign any rights to colonizing any worlds outside of their current Boarders and must provide a Tithe of raw materials on a yearly basis to the Imperium as compensation. You will also take command of the Second Legion, to use as you please, and serve in ensuring the completion of the Crusade along with aiding me in a number of endeavors in regards to the Warp. A mutual defense and Non-aggression pact will also be drafted between the Imperium of Man and the Aesir Collective. As for the Warrants... You may have six to give to whoever you wish, no more. Agreed?" The Emperor held out his hand, smile still in place as the projection frowned for a moment...

Before it smiled.

It faded a moment later, only to be replaced by another, more solid and real, counterpart that appeared in a flash of Ozone. Walking forwards, the helmet fell away to reveal Marcus behind the armor as he smiled clasping the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"Agreed."

 **XXX**

I forced myself to smile as I held my nervous energy in check.

That had honestly gone much better than I thought. Sure, the limiting of the ability for the Aesir to expand beyond the pre-existing Boarders was a bit of a bother, but I could think of a few dozen ways around that while also ensuring the independence of the Aesir Collective from the Imperium and keeping the advanced tech out of their grubby mittens, for the moment at least. The Warrants of Trade being one such method, though I was rather surprised that the Emperor would allow me to have so many, I would have settled for three at the absolute minimum.

Still, even as I shook the hand of the Emperor, I couldn't help by release a sigh of relief.

So far, everything had gone the way I had hoped, with the agreement struck, even if it did mean that the _official_ chances of the Collective being able to expand dropped to nil outside of the current boarders. Regardless, this meant that I wouldn't have to worry about my nation being subjugated and consumed by the Imperials and, of course, it meant that the Aesir wouldn't have to commit one of the greatest acts of spite the Galaxy would ever see, triggering every star in the territory to go Supernova.

That was hardly a bluff, even if I was hesitant to accept it, it had actually been Frida's suggestion, her argument being that the Aesir would rather live under my command, or they would live under no one's, but they would die as they live; Free.

It was rather touching, though I would admit it was annoying when they had placed the devices ahead of my knowledge. I was planning to bluff the Emperor with the idea that there _might_ be devices placed in such a manner in the future, but now I didn't, and I suppose that is what made it a better bluff.

"I'll see about gathering a few of the more poetically-inclined among my people and get them to aid in the construction of the treaty, assuming you have the scribes to do so?" I asked, using my talent at Biomancy and concealing myself in the Warp to hide any of my current feelings from the others, I'd say that I was doing a pretty good job of it. The Emperor merely nodded.

"There are a few dozen scribes and Administratum adepts on the _Bucephelus_ , they can work out the particulars and show us the final draft before either of us signs it. Though, I must admit, going to such extremes to ensure that you get what you want is rather impressive." The Emperor commented as I shrugged. "Even now, I can feel the device holding a close orbit around the star of this system. You truly were prepared to destroy everything you had built simply to keep it from the hands of the Imperium."

I nodded, understanding that as a statement of fact, I saw no reason to lie. Yes, I was prepared to do such a thing, but I was hesitant to press the trigger even if only for a moment. Horus looked at me like I was nuts before snorting in mirth.

"Now... Now I think I see where the Second Legion gets their insane need to constantly escalate and their habit of flipping any table that someone tries to play on." Horus remarked as I smiled brightly at that.

"If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying to win." I remarked before frowning slightly, Odin suddenly alerting me to an incoming aircraft with the silhouette of a Thunderhawk. It was travelling several times the approved maximum speed of the craft, was heavily modified and seemingly coming apart from the sheer wind resistance placed against it. It was no surprise when the craft suddenly came into view as it screamed over head, trails of fire from the frictional resistance with the air showing as it shot overhead before crashing to the dry ground just outside the ruined FOB. It's nose touching the ground before it cart wheeled, flipping end over end twice before finally coming to rest on the ground just in front of the main entrance to the FOB, lacking wings and having flipped to being upside down.

"It appears that you will be meeting your Legion far sooner than was originally planned, Brother." Horus remarked as I rolled my eyes, sensing the crew onboard, twenty Marines, all still alive and seemingly intact after the craziness I had just witnessed. Walking around, I saw the Emperor and Horus, plus their guards, follow behind me as I walked towards the gate and out to see what had happened. As I walked out, I saw cutting torches through the hull of the ruined craft as multiple torches seemed to work together to crack open the armored hulls of the craft. A moment later, a slab of armor big enough for a Marauder to float through came away as it thumped to the ground. I watched with interest as the Marines stepped out.

Each Marine seemed to be wearing something different, their armors had, at one point in the distant past, been the same, but near constant upgrades, modifications and changes had ensured that each suit of armor was unique. The same went for the weapon load outs of each of them, though, I seemed to have spotted a distinct interest in heavy weapons given that some of them were carrying around what looked like Plasma guns, Melta guns and twin-linked Heavy Bolters.

One of them even seemed to have a twin-lined Volkite Culverin with what looked like an underbarrel-mounted Multi-las. It was impressive, though, my silent observations were ruined when the one that appeared to be wearing a pseudo-Terminator armor turned and regarded me, his eyes widening as he dropped to his knees, recognition, awe and reverence dancing in his eyes before the others joined him.

"LORD PRIMARCH!" They bellowed as one.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Horus settle for a grin while I felt the amusement dancing in the Emperor's soul.

I was half tempted to punch both of them, treaty or not, bodyguards or not.

I _really_ wanted to punch them...

 **XXX**

Well, there you have it, the introduction between the Imperium and the Aesir, Marcus finally meeting his other brother and Big E along with the introduction of the Second Legion. Hope you enjoyed that and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	10. Unbroken Legions and Dark Pursuits

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: New chapter, nothing to answer for the moment, but just a warning that things will get... Ominous at some points. Just a head's up.

Enjoy.

 **XXX**

I glanced off to one side as I saw the amused duo of the Emperor and my newly revealed Brother before I looked back at the kneeling forms of the Astartes before me, all twenty of them kneeling, heads bowed and waiting for my command as I felt the anxious energy within them. I mentally questioned what to say as I saw the energy building up within them before I finally just got fed up with my own mental debate.

"Stand." I commanded as all twenty of them rose up immediately, standing at attention as I turned to the largest one, who I guessed was the leader. "Your name, Astartes."

"First Forger Marteleus Tarincus, leader of the Second Legion, the Astral Gears, before your return, Lord Primarch." The Astartes replied instantly with no hesitation, his face a mask of stone, but his soul was clear to me. He was nervous, hesitant and anxious of my judgment, excitement filled him for finally meeting his Gene-sire, but that was still overshadowed with fear at my rejection, looking deeper, I saw what he feared the most. He feared I would reject him and his Brothers for not being like other Legions, for being skilled in both the arts of the Tech-Priests and Psykers rather than solely being focused on those of being an Astartes. I felt it was a stupid fear, one that I knew would be utterly hypocritical for me to hate them for, seeing as I shared such talents. As I went to answer, I smiled at the First Forger, his eyes looking on in surprise and awe at my expression as I spoke.

"Well, First Forger Marteleus Tarincus, allow me to tell you that you have nothing to fear from me, for why would I fear or hate you for having traits that I, myself possess." I remarked as I looked at them, they stood taller, prouder at my declaration before offering small smiles of pure joy at my acceptance as I glanced to once side.

"Was it truly necessary to stress your craft so much to meet with me? While, I admit that I do enjoy accurate timekeeping and punctuality, that does not mean that I lack patience." I remarked as the Astartes before me seemed to top from foot to foot slightly, no mortal would have seen it, but I saw it as clear as day.

"... We believed that we should not keep you waiting any longer, Lord Primarch." I smiled at that.

"Don't worry about it, my Son, in the future, know that I am willing to wait. Now then, I believe that we should do something about this wreck, don't you agree?" I asked, getting nods form the Astartes.

"Of course, Lord Primarch. We'll contact our ship and have a crew work to salvage it as soon as possible." He remarked as I felt a Vox-channel open. A thought from me caused it to shutdown instantly, surprising the Astartes as I simply smiled.

"That... Will not be necessary. Observe." I remarked as my eyes glowed with power.

 **XXX**

"That... Will not be necessary. Observe." Their Primarch commanded as his eyes glowed with the power of the Warp, yet none could keep his power, an odd change as they watched him step forwards, towards the ruined craft as pieces of metal were suddenly lifted from the barren soil, the wreck flipped over as what happened next stole the breath of all that watched. Ruined metal slowly shifted, melting into a liquid-like state and flowed back into place as ruined components put themselves back together and the armored hull of the heavily modified Thunderhawk was repaired and restored with a single thought. The restored craft floated in the air for a moment before gently settling to the ground as their Primarch turned to them, a slight smile on his face that was, quite possibly, the most awe inspiring thing he had ever seen, simply knowing that their Primarch didn't hate them or hadn't rejected them for their... _Traits_.

"There. It should be back to the way it was before it crashed, try not to crash it again anytime soon, unless such a course of action is needed, of course." The Primarch remarked with amusement colouring his tone.

"As you command, Lord Primarch." They replied in unison as some of them bolted for the craft, intent on inspecting it down to the last molecule. The Primarch only looked amused by this.

"Marcus Grimm, that is my name. You and your Brothers may call me as such if you wish, I shall not force you to do so." The Primarch replied. Marteleus went still with shock at being granted such an honor by their Primarch, it was almost enough to cause both of his hearts to stop in shock. Thankfully, they didn't but it was a close thing.

"As you wish, Lord Marcus. What are your commands?" Marteleus questioned, curious as to what they were to do as he wondered what the first commands of their Legion would be. Their Primarch seemed to thick on such things as he looked up to the sky before glancing back at the Astartes of the Astral Gears.

"Gather every record on your Legion regarding everything from your war-record, organizational structure, combat doctrines and anything else, anything that has been documented by your legion that shows what it has done from the moment of its creation to the present time. Gather them and bring them to me at the Capital city of Kilomiz, Null-zana, wait for seven days before you return, and at the end of those seven days, have the Legion gather at this location for my address to them." The Primarch ordered simply as Marteleus felt a cool wind sweep through his mind, bypassing his mental defenses and utterly ignoring his attempts to stop it before it pulled back as he suddenly found himself with the knowledge of the city of Null-zana in his mind. His eyes went wide as he suddenly realized just how skilled a Psyker his Primarch was, if the earlier display wasn't clue enough. Bowing at the waist, he was stopped by his Primarch who merely waved the gesture off before smiling at his Gene-Sons.

As he watched his Gene-sire, Marteleus couldn't help feeling lighter.

Who cared what the other Legions thought of the Astral Gears, they had their Primarch who was proud of them!

Nothing could take that away from them!

 _Nothing!_

 **XXX**

Horus would be honest in saying that, seeing his new Brother interact with his Legion was equal parts interesting and terrifying.

Interesting, because he seemed to grasp the root of whatever fear the Second Legion held; their fear of being rejected by their Primarch and being cast down as failures for simply inheriting their Gene-sire's abilities. After speaking but a few words, already it looked like the members of the Astral Gears were ready to take on the Galaxy in nothing but a pair of trousers and a kitchen knife if their Primarch ordered it. They were moving around with excited energy as some of them buzzed around him while others were looking over the newly repaired Thunderhawk with reverent awe and excitement, probably at the prospect of learning how to do such a thing themselves.

However, it was also terrifying. The last time Horus had seen members of the Second Legion so happy was during a battle against a nation of Human Pirates that had targeted and enslaved other Humans from a dozen neighboring systems. During the battle, members of the Astral Gears dozens of Servo-skulls mounted on spider-like legs, these machines would attack the pirate-soldiers, cutting heads off before attaching themselves to the headless bodies and hijack the nervous system of the target body, turning them into crude Servitors. The battle had been won with hardly a single casualty, but the mad cackling of the senior members of the Astral Gears was hardly comforting, especially when they started making more Servitors out of the collected corpses of the fallen Pirates and attached weapons and armor to them as they advanced.

The entire battle had led to more than one Legion adopting the saying: The only thing more dangerous than an Astral Gear Legionnaire at work, is an excited Astral Legionnaire at work.

"You know, Brother, I don't know what I find more terrifying. The fact that you can rouse them to such a terrible excitement, or the fact that you can rouse them to such a state so easily." Horus deadpanned at his Brother, who merely smiled in return.

"Oh, trust me, you have not seen anything yet." Marcus replied amusedly to Horus, getting a snort in return. Such things went without saying, especially in the case of the Second Legion, which obviously had translated to their Primarch as well.

"Of that, I have little doubt." Horus remarked with his own amusement apparent to the world before looking questioningly at his Brother.

"By the way, may I ask how you fixed that Thunderhawk? Such a skill would prove invaluable to many Legions." He asked curiously, though he fully expected what came.

"A mixture of Post-cognition and Telekinesis that I have honed over the two centuries I have lived." He remarked casually, showing just how twisted the Warp had been as his, apparently, older Brother displayed his skill. However, Horus couldn't help but wonder if that was the whole truth, or even _the_ truth, as the members of the Second Legion had always been vague about their abilities and the full range of their strength, usually answering in half-truths and omissions, being cryptic and vague at the best of times. Well, usually.

"Indeed? How long did it take you to gain such control over your abilities to carry out such a detailed restoration? I watched and saw that you had merged the materials back together on the molecular level." The Emperor questioned in turn, adding his own experience to the matter. Marcus simply shrugged.

"A century and a half, give or take a decade. two centuries of on and off conflict tend to focus the mind and give you a goal to work towards, especially when you need skills that can save your life in a hurry." The Emperor only looked more interested.

"And why would you have needed such skills? What necessity forced their development in the first place?" The Emperor questioned once more, again, Marcus shrugged, showing his Legions trait for being cryptic and vague.

"Let's just say that my Homeworld was not the most hospitable, nor were the natives tolerant of those not of their blood."

And that wasn't ominous at all, drawing more curious looks from the members of the Luna Wolves, their Primarch and the Emperor himself. The only reason the members of the Astral Gears hadn't joined in starring was because they had already left, boarding their Thunderhawk in order to carry out the orders of their Primarch as they headed back to their Battle Barge.

 **XXX**

Sitting within my temporary Office, I looked around me to see the gathered holographic displays around me, each one displayed a dozen different things as I investigated the Legion that I was to take command over.

So far, I rather liked what I saw.

The combat doctrine of the Legion revolved around a number of things: Overwhelming firepower; Adaptability; Unpredictability; Innovation in the heat of battle; And stacking the deck as heavily in their favor as was possible before the first Bolter shell was even fired.

In combat, each Astartes worked in squads of ten that had anywhere between ten to twenty different names that they rotated through at any time during battle, communicating through a mixture of highly encrypted Vox-channels and through a Psychic gestalt mind that they shared. The constant shifting names and terms meant that enemies, even if they hacked into the communication web, wouldn't know what the hell was going on even if they _were_ paying attention. Not only that, but due to this non-physical connection, they often stored data through this network that they then used to rapidly shift their chain of command, often in the middle of combat to look like anything they wished. Companies, Chapters and Grand Companies were all decided on the fly, making it difficult for an enemy to know what they would be facing, even if one didn't take into account that each Astartes was often armed with custom wargear that differed from one warrior to the next.

Not only that, but the Second Legion also made a habit of using force multipliers: Imperial combat robots, weapon-equipped Servitors, floating land mines in the form of Servo-skulls and Warp-knows what else along with their impressive array of Psychic talents.

However, one thing I noticed was that the Astral Gears organized themselves into loose 'squad types' based on the custom equipment that each Astartes used, they were entirely informal and just as likely to change at a moment's notice as the rest of the combat structure. The Squads themselves were merely semi-formal, not set in stone and certainly not something that something that was recorded anywhere but the minds of the Astartes. According to reports, the Space Wolves had tried to make sense of it one time and had, literally, been reduced to pulling their own hair out in frustration, much to the amusement of my Legion.

It was readily apparent to me that my Legion was composed of Trolls.

Moving on, vehicles were set up similarly. No fixed crews and weapons often shifted at the drop of a hat, the name of the vehicles were often not inscribed on to them and were merely used for communication purposes. Everything was fluid in that it could change in a heartbeat and would confuse anyone watching to now end, but it worked and worked well in ensuring the Legion could adapt to any situation as Astartes with any type of weapon were put where they could be the most useful.

In terms of tactics, they often varied even that from battle to battle. Sometimes they would happily engage in open warfare and still cheat horribly with any number of tricks while other times they would use every trick, deception and ploy to lead their opponents in circles. Technology also played a big part of things as they often created devices from scrap in the middle of the battlefield to suit their purposes. More than one AAR talked about one device or another being created on the spot to fill a niche within that given battle while other times, they talked about using the battlefield as a testing ground for weapons, tactics and anything else my Legion could come up with.

The only semi-permanent things of my Legion were two things: My honor guard and the Guilds.

My honor guard was, currently, called the Sharpened Gears. It was made up from the most veteran soldiers with the heaviest weapons and armor, but also with the sharpest minds, along with having the most skill and raw power with their Psychic abilities. They numbered at five hundred in total, split up similarly and each one being as unique and different as the next. Marteleus was part of the Sharpened Gears, though, he was one of the most direct ones when it came to battle, highly mobile and favoring simply crushing the enemy through any means necessary. Others favored different styles; Some liked to cut them apart before their opponents had a chance to react, some liked to simply drown them in waves of Servitors, machines or bullets while others still preferred to be the hidden sniper that downs enemy after enemy before they can become a threat.

I had seen each one of them, seen their war records and been impressed with what I saw.

The other thing was the Guilds, there were two types of Guilds; War Guilds that focused on technological innovations related to the military prowess of the Legion and Peace Guilds which focused on non-military technologies that would aid the Legion. Each member of the Second Legion was a member of at least one War Guild and one Peace Guild that served any number of purposes.

War Guilds were divided by any number of things, weapon types and tactics being the man differences between each Guild while the Peace Guilds mainly differed by what field of science and development they focused on, such as Transport, Medicine, Void Travel, and anything else. Still, what surprised me the most was that all their technological advancements were kept very much in-house, with the exception of being handed over to trusted members of the Mechanicus. It was rather easy to see once you started looking between the lines.

Every Astral Gear ship was crewed only by the Astral Gears themselves, battle-automata, Servitors, Servo-skulls and what amounted to the Serfs of the Legion, who were heavily modified and conditioned over the generations to be biologically incapable of betraying the Second Legion. There were no Navigators, nor Astropaths and all the Serfs lived and died on those ships, generation after generation serving no other purpose. Rememberancers were still present, but they were subtly directed to stay away from certain areas along with not asking questions related to certain topics. Not only that, but those that were contacted within the Mechanicus had clear political perspectives, either negatively viewing the Imperium or being borderline Hereteks themselves.

It was an interesting note of interest, one I fully planned to look into at a later point.

Leaning back into my chair, I smirked as I raised a glass and took a sip.

"... Oh, Tyrant... You really must keep watch over your own garden, least thorns grown out of sight of your gardeners and spread... You have allowed those Thorns to spread, aided by your own actions and inactions..." My smirk turned sinister in the light of the setting sun.

"And I intend to take full advantage..."

 **XXX**

Marteleus didn't know whether to be excited or nervous as he moved through the corridors of the massive spire at the centre of the Aesir city, his eyes roaming the massive structures and machines that he could see as he took in the details and designs, his mind churning with a dozen ideas even as he continued to walk along. Honestly, though, what was happening right now was unexpected, to say the least.

Primarch Marcus had told them to return within seven days to allow him to learn about the record of the Second Legion, they had done so, returning to their ships and waiting with nervous energy as they waited for his summons on the seventh day. However, something had changed, which had resulted in him being summoned from the ship in orbit, wondering why he had been summoned a day early while the result of the Legion was left to try and occupy themselves with their duties, often finding themselves distracted by their emotions.

Stepping around a corner, Marteleus looked on to see two Aesir, their armor of the black and gold trimmed design that spoke of these soldiers as being Elders, being over two centuries old and having seen nearly non-stop combat during that time. It still put a smile on his face when he considered how a few of them had managed to force back the Mutt King of Fenris and his rabid Corgis, however, that often turned into a full laugh as he considered the state that the Sixth Legion had returned to Terra in; Imprisoned within their own vessels. That single event would serve as a bright spot for the Second Legion for millennia to come.

Reaching the door, it opened on its own as he walked inside, the guards doing nothing to prevent it as he stepped into the room to see the Lord Primarch, still in full armor and sitting behind his desk with a serious expression. That immediately set the First Forger on edge, seeing their Primarch joyful and happy to see them was a great thing, but this new expression filled him with dread.

"Marteleus. Sit. There is something I wished to discuss with you." He commanded, skipping any pleasantries completely as he got straight to business. Marteleus did so without a word, the chair working to support his armored bulk. Seconds tipped by for a moment, stretching into minutes as neither of them spoke, Marteleus not wishing to speak first and his Primarch staying silent for the longest time when, during the seventh minute, the Primarch spoke once more.

"I was reading through the Legion's war records when I noticed a few... Let's call them discrepancies. Care to explain?" The Primarch asked, his voice neutral as his expression gave nothing away. Marteleus did not even bother trying to check the Warp, for he knew that his Primarch was all but invisible to those who looked within the Great Ocean. Still Marteleus remained quiet as he considered the question and tried to think of what his Primarch was referring to as a slowly forming pit of dread filled his gut. As though sensing his thoughts, an easy feat from what the First Forger knew of his Primarch's abilities, Marcus answered with two words that caused his blood to freeze colder than the void.

"I know." Sweat gathered around the back of the Astral Gear's neck as he did his best to remain calm and stone faced.

He was unsure of how effective he was at it.

"Know what?" Marteleus hedged, looking for more information. Hoping that his greatest fear wasn't true.

"That you and the rest of the Second Legion has been carrying out numerous technological innovations, sharing them with select members of the Mechanicus and not granting even a fraction of your technological secrets to anyone outside of a select group of allies that you know the loyalty of." The Primarch stated factually, no judgment in his voice, no disappointment or disgust as he spoke, but that only made it harder to guess what he was thinking.

"Care to explain, Marteleus?" The Primarch asked as resignation cleared within his mind. The Second Legion might not have shared all the secrets that they had gained through decades of secret advancement and experimentation, but they still retained vast vaults of knowledge, if word got out that even one of those vaults existed, then they would be looking at a total purge of their Legion in the face of both the Wrath of the Mechanicus as a whole along with the Imperium. Sighing to himself, he resigned himself to his fate, but, he would face it with dignity, as would his fellow Gears.

"Every since our creation, we have been cursed in more ways than one. First; is that we are all Psykers. Humans look at us and see, at best, a potent tool or weapon that could serve them well in a given situation or, at worst, living, ticking bombs that could go off at any point. Second; We are all trained Techmarines, each with a knowledge the width and breadth of which being magnitudes greater than any Mortal still living, yet we cannot expand our knowledge without being branded Hereteks and killed or running into the restrictions of the Treaty of Olympus Mons, which would get us killed if we ever were discovered to be breaking them." Marteleus took a pause, thinking about what to say next, having already exposed enough to see him and his Brother's dead, but figured that it would be folly to simply stop at this point.

"We are constantly looked down upon, held at arm's length and with a gun pointed at our heads while a dagger is positioned over our throats! We needed an advantage that we did not possess to even the playing field, even then, one wrong move and we would be executed for one reason or another." Marteleus snarled, his well hidden resentment finally making it to the surface. They were feelings that his Legion shared, wanting to have _something_ that would make the other Legions back off and stop looking at them with suspicion and distrust, like they were walking time bombs, for a quirk of their Gene-seeds they had no control over. It had been the cause of more than one fight between the other Legions, mainly the Space Wolves, but many of the other Legions without Primarchs had made clear their own feelings on the matter. Throughout it all, his Primarch remained silent before the First Forger looked at him, eyes searching for anything that might hint at the fate of the Legion.

"... Is that what the rest of the Legion also believes? That you should look into anything and everything that has been forbidden by the Emperor on the off chance that they all might turn on you?" Marteleus nodded without hesitation.

"Before your introduction to the Legion, whenever we fought alongside other Legions, our ranks would sometimes suffering _accidents_ that would lessen our numbers, varying from friendly fire to reinforcements being just a _bit_ too slow. The most of the other Legions, while not openly wishing for our deaths, would gladly see us bleed dry as they see us as a danger to great, even if they, themselves, all have Psykers in their ranks. The Emperor and the other Primarchs have not noticed this, or, in the case of Russ, have chosen to ignore such things. _Some_ Legions don't take part in it, but they are few and far between, and after the disappearance of the Eleventh Legion, we have found ourselves with a lack of allies aside from the Mechanicus, and even then, we only truly trust a select few." Marteleus remarked simply, hoping to avoid the Emperor's wrath, if possible, but knowing that, if his Primarch had discovered such things on his own, then it was best to come clean rather than test the patience of a Primarch they did not fully know, let alone one that had beaten Russ like a newborn pup. Sighing to himself, he looked towards his Primarch with a pleading look, one that was only turned into a paradox with the gleam of stubborn pride at what had been done in order to ensure that his Legion survived.

"Now that you know this, Lord Primarch, what will you do? Will you tell the Emperor of our hidden treachery?" The First Forger tried to sound brave, but found himself dreading the answer until it came.

"... No." It was a single, simply word that followed after moments of silence that once more dominated the room, but it caused relief to bloom within the Astral Gear as he seemed to sink into the chair.

"Thank you, my Primarch, you have no idea how much that means to both myself and my Legion." Marteleus offered sincerely as their Primarch smiled.

"No need, I had already decided I wasn't going to be telling the Tyrant anything, much less about the violations in some treaty that he made in an effort to deny some rather potent technologies out of fear of their corruption." The Marine looked on in interest at that.

"Corruption? At the hands of what?" At this, the Primarch looked at him sharply before frowning deeply.

"Seriously? The Emperor hasn't told you about the creatures hanging around in the Warp?" The Primarch inquired incredulously.

"Only that we are to avoid them at all costs, but he has never elaborated beyond that, simply commanding us to do it before moving onwards, not really sparing the time to answer any questions we had before ordering us to not speak of the matter again." Marteleus stated as his Primarch only looked on in sheer disbelief.

"It seems I shall have to work harder than I thought to make up for the stupidity of that Tyrant." He muttered to himself as he turned back to the Marine.

 **XXX**

I sighed as I rubbed the bridge of my nose, it seemed the Emperor was even more stupid than I thought. Sure, he probably had reasons, but they better have been damned good ones for not telling an entire _fucking_ Legion of Astartes about the dangers of the Warp and the Neverborn within it. He was relying upon their Shield of Ignorance to protect them along with their mental walls, which were quite strong, to force them to resist such things, but that would only end badly as such things could be eroded in time. Mind you, the man had wanted to talk with me about the nature of the Warp, but hadn't bothered after I had told him I knew of the Four. He settled on warning me not to consort with them before leaving, saying that I would be coming to Terra in a few weeks time to be taught a few things by him before I could spend a decade working with my Legion to have them restructured and equipped as I pleased.

Still, that was in the future, I focused on the present.

"Ok, moving that topic to the side for the time being, as I do not have enough alcohol nearby to cover _that_ discussion, I must ask, what technologies have you been looking into?" I asked, curious as Marteleus shrugged in return.

"Semi-intelligent machines primarily, looking to create something of a command machine to control a larger number of lesser machines for us. Though, we have been looking into genetic modification and engineering along with a few other fields of study." I nodded in that, while not against the Treaty of Mars, since I had managed to find a copy of the document in the specifications of their Tech-priest training, it was skirting the line enough that many of the more puritan Tech-Priests wouldn't have allowed them to live.

"Anything Warp-related?" I asked, curious and cautious. Marteleus scratched his chin with an oversized digit before nodding.

"High Gear Vadimarc has been working on the study of more Warp-conductive and insulative materials so that we could better channel our abilities when needed." I nodded, that was good, especially since I knew that Warp-based technologies, with the current state of the Warp, was probably just asking for a Daemon incursion.

"Good. Keep it that way for the time being." I ordered as he nodded. If anything, it was a bit hypocritical of me, but I never claimed to be perfect, nor did I claim to be all knowing, but I certainly had picked up a few things. Marteleus nodded at that, seemingly rather happy with how things had gone for the meeting as I looked at him.

"Now, we'll discuss these things more in-depth at a later time, but I want you to put together a list of the things being researched and give it to me tomorrow. I want to know what kind of assets that you might be able to bring to a fight in the future along with putting down some ground rules."

"Understood, my Primarch, I shall see it done."

 **XXX**

Standing on a high platform within a vast assembly hall, I looked at the gathered Legionnaires before me, each one wearing armor that was slightly different than those next to them with augments, changes in designs and alterations in purpose that were only known to those that had created them. Before me, I saw a mass of armored figures, thirty thousand warriors strong and each of them waiting for me to speak, mentally, I went over a few ideas that I had for a speech as a way of greeting my Legion as a whole even while my mind still floated around other topics. Eventually, I decided to throw myself into things, as I stepped forwards, I head and saw the Legion stand at attention, standing proudly, but many with hints of nervous energy still present in their bodies.

"I have learned much about you, all of you, as is only proper for those in positions of command. I have read the reports submitted by the other Legions: Undisciplined, maniacs, Witches and abomination, they have said all these things and more due to your style of fighting, because of the... _Abilities_ that you have inherited from me. They would consider each and every one of you as failures and things to be disposed of as being too much of a risk to allow to continue to operate within the wider Imperium. Many would wish for me to simply wipe you out to the last man and be done with it, to 'cleanse the witch' as some might say." I started as many of them looked on in shame, looking to the ground as their bodies slumped. I smiled.

"However, it is a good thing that I disagree with them." The instant that statement was delivered, every member of the Legion before me perked up, looking at me with hope in their eyes.

"Where other Legions would question your strength and doubt your abilities, I see that you have the potential to stand above those that mock you all. Where other Legions think you unstable, I see the potential to become something great, after all, it is said that madness and genius were merely two sides of the same coin. Where other Legions have faltered at seeing challenges and declaring them as impossible to defeat, you all have stood, you have taken on these challenges, seeing the word 'impossible' as a challenge that must be crushed. And crush it you have! Again and again, you have faced challenges that would have caused larger Legions to balk and step back, afraid to jump in and accept the challenge, you have moved ahead, never faltering and never failing to surpass any test put before you!" I shouted, my tempo picking up as I could feel the excited energy moving through the crowd before me, they were standing taller, prouder and more confident than they had in a long time, many of them promising within their minds to not let me down.

"Where other Legions would be too bound by their rules and regimental outlooks of war, by their anally retentive views of honor and glory in battle, you are unencumbered by such things, casting them aside and leaving them in the past! Where they belong! For I ask you, what good will honor do against Bolt Shells and Plasma!?

"None!" Came the answering shout filled with excitement.

"What good is glory to the dead!?"

"None!"

"What good is being reforged by the Emperor if you lack the mental flexibility to use every advantage you have?!

"None!" I smiled at that, finding it amazing how much zeal they were putting into their answers as I glanced around, the crowd being electrified with energy as I continued.

"And yet those that would look down upon you continue to carry these very faults! They would question the very way that you fight, yet they are far from spotless themselves. They see victory as whoever is the holder of their target at the end of the fight, regardless of loses. You see the victory of battles as those who have wasted the least amount; whether in time, energy, materials or manpower, it matters not." I took a deep breath as I paused for the effect.

"And, at the end of every battle, you have been much like I have: Coming from each battle changed, made stronger, or more ferocious. A monster in the night. Watching. Learning. Hunting. Each time I have entered the pit of war, I have come out reborn with new strengths, new insights and new inspirations. If you put the devil on the other side, I will show up to battle. Evolved. Adapted. And prepared to fight. And to win." Once more I paused as I took in the crowd before me, they were hanging on to my words, waiting for me to finish as some looked ready to cheer at that very moment. I smiled as I continued.

"At the end of every battle, we have all stood at the top, standing above a pile of corpses made from our enemies." I stood straight up, raising my voice as I shouted. "No longer are you the Astral Gears, no longer mere cogs in a machine that cares nothing for you! You have stood undefeated and unconquered after every trial that has been thrown against you, stood unopposed at the top of your chosen field of war and have sharpened your skills to a razor edge with the fires of war! From this moment onwards, you shall be the Unbroken, with Adamantine wills and fury-filled hearts!" The resulting cheer was deafening , even to me, as the Astartes before me cheered for their new identity, jumping for joy and crying out their excitement. I could make out Oaths to ensure that what I said would always come to pass, until the end of everything, they would see it done.

I smiled at that.

I had very little doubt about that.

 **XXX**

Stepping through the portal, I looked around to see the Imperial Palace as it was. It was a rather nice place, well built and highly decorated as I quickly spotted a Custodian that was moving towards me in full armor. Mentally, I couldn't help myself as I reached out with my senses and brushed against him, not interested in his memories, but his augments and power armor.

"Greetings, Lord Primarch. The Emperor is expecting you. This way please." The Custodian said, expecting me to follow as he turned around and started walking. I didn't bother trying to say anything or get him to slow down, I didn't see the point since these guys would probably only have anything resembling a conversation with the Emperor.

Originally, I had landed on the outer wall of the Imperial Palace, but we took a tram-like train towards the inner sections before getting off and heading for a large dining room where I saw the Emperor already seated, a chess board was sitting in front of him as I was gestured to take a seat as the Emperor looked up from what looked like an ancient book he was reading.

"Ah, my Son, it is good to see you once more. I trust that the journey to Terra was uneventful?" He asked, probably already knowing the answer as this place was smothered in his presence, I highly doubted that anyone would even be able to move around here without him noticing a single step, let along their breath. I shrugged in answer as I took a seat, sitting on a heavily reinforced chair made from an adamantium skeleton with high-quality wooden panels making up the exterior.

"It was no different than what I've done a dozen times before." I remarked simply, offering nothing else as he simply nodded as he gestured to the board.

"I was thinking we could talk over a game of chess, an old game from before the Dark Ages. I've found it a rather good method of focusing the mind and relaxing, especially with a good opponent." He remarked as I nodded.

"I am familiar with the game." I stated simple as he seemed to smile.

"Good, I'll take white, you take black and I'll start first." The Emperor stated as I nodded.

"It's your house, I'd have suggested it if you hadn't." I spoke as I watched him move the first piece before I moved mine in turn. We continued in silence for an uncounted amount of time, each move becoming longer, more drawn out as each of us started to consider out moves more and more carefully. I knew that, in all likelihood, the Emperor would win this, but I did _not_ plan to give him an easy victory.

"You are rather skilled at this game. Where did you learn it? I would have thought I was one of the few that even still remembered it." The Emperor remarked, I offered a smile.

"The ruined hulk of a Dark Ages Human ship, a game made from carved Oak and a few dozen historical files had survived, but the rest of the ship wasn't worth the metal it was made from. Every system was either in pieces, melted or simply missing, but I do think that the trip through that ship was worth it." I remarked. It was a partial lie, since I had known the game well before that point.

"Oh? Was that the only ship of the Golden Age that you encountered?" He asked as I snorted in amusement.

"Wasn't much of a Golden Age during the Iron War. And no, I encountered a few more, most of them being little more than ruined hunks of metal in similar states." The Emperor nodded gravely at that point, it was well raised since, technically, the Iron War had taken place in what the Imperium called the Golden Age of Mankind.

"Would you be willing to share such knowledge with the Imperium? The ignorance of their own ancestors beyond the most basic of ideas is something I hope to cure in the future." I considered it for a moment.

"I'll consider it, though the Aesir have those files pretty heavily locked down. You want them, you mind need to talk with the Data Vault Keepers on Yggdraisl." I remarked non-commitedly as the Emperor snorted.

"It seems that your Legion's ability for being vague and cryptic did, in fact, come from somewhere." He remarked with a smile as the game continued.

We remained silent for the next three hours as we focused on the game, each of us only having made two moves in that time. As with all the other conversations that had been started so far, it was the Emperor that opened it up.

"If you don't mind me asking, but do you happen to have any familiars?" He asked, curious about something. I raised an eyebrow at that, one could argue that I did, but I believed he was talking of the animal verity rather than the three individuals that I had bound to me.

"No. Why do you ask?" I shot back, curious in turn about where hat question came from.

"Hm. Just a curiosity. When I brushed against your power the first time when it created the portal to Terra, I couldn't help but notice that you had three beings bound to you in some form. The bonds were incredibly potent, one-way in how they were commanded and seemed to have something intelligent on the other side of the bond. I simply wished to know what they were." I nodded to that, mentally considering what to say as I saw the Emperor go to take a drink of some ancient wine that was cultivated inside the Imperial Palace. I suppressed an impish grin as a thought came to me, after all, there was nothing wrong with telling the truth, right?

"One of those bonds is connected to a sixty million year old Eldar Autarch." I said as I watched the Emperor's reaction, mentally memorizing it for the future. I had timed it so that he would be drinking it when I saw that, he didn't spit-take, much to my annoyance, but it was a pretty damned near thing, he still ended up choking slightly on the wine, coughing slightly. Once his coughing subsided, he glared at me.

"You did that on purpose." He remarked with his glare. I smiled innocently.

"Now, why would I do such a thing as that?" I asked, still keeping the innocent facade as his face deadpanned at me.

"Your owe amusement." He answered before leaning back and rubbing his eyes, I took that moment to shift a few pieces without him noticing.

What? If given the opportunity to cheat, cheat like a motherfucker.

How exactly did you run into such a creature? For that matter, why would you even allow a bond such as that to form with one of those Traitorous Xenos?" There was no judgment in his tone, on his face or in his body language, simply displaying curiosity, but I didn't put much stock in that appearance, especially when compared to his normal mental walls, his mind slammed shut with the force of a Fortress door. That move alone was rather telling, I shrugged at his question.

"Mostly because she has willingly submitted to me on any level you could care to name. If I told her to jump, she would keep on jumping until she either hit Orbit or died from the effort. Not only that, but her mind is open to me in such a way that she simply has no way of considering anything remotely traitorous without my knowing about it in advance. Lastly, Eldar from her time period happen to had a hell of a lot more honor and decency in them than any of the modern-era Eldar." The Emperor seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I will admit, I do not have the... _Best_ impression of that race, but I assume you know something I don't?" He asked, I nodded before sending him a few things through a psychic link, a few of Taemera's memories of the Eldar long before they fell from grace. He tilted his head slightly at that, looking at me curiously.

"The link allows me to bypass any and all defenses on her mind, I can see her memories as though they were my own." I explained simply as he nodded.

"And the others?" He asked.

"Advisors. The bond was Taemera's idea so that I always knew whether I could expect a dagger in the back or not." I spoke simply, it was technically true as well, so I couldn't be called out for lying. Once more, he nodded as we continued the game in silence until it finished. The game ended up being a draw, somehow, with both Kings being only a single square away from each other, neither of us had wanted to make the next move, but we knew we couldn't have stayed there all day and night until one of us did, so a draw it was.

Over the next few weeks, we would meet, talk and play a game that would, inevitably, end in a draw between the two of us. It even got to the point that both of us were using Pre-cognition to try and divine the future of the game.

That game had lasted five days.

Time stretched as weeks turned to months before turning into a full year by which I had spent with the Emperor to learn, to teach and to interact. I ran into Horus most of all, but any time I sensed Russ in the Palace, I generally steered well clear, mostly because I knew that having the two of us in one room was just asking for a fight to break out, probably not helped by the fact I would feel the need to taunt the Mutt. Still, I figured it was better not to tempt Fate, or either the Changer of Ways or Murphy for that matter, so I tended to avoid such things like the plague. The end result was that the idiot would catch my scent before he started chasing it around the Imperial Palace, I usually just used Portals and other tricks I picked up to avoid him, but it was annoying.

I'd swear though, even though the Custodes that my... Father? Progenitor? Dad? Whatever, used to guard the Palace were amused about the whole damned thing. Now, where was that bloody Yatley Sax music when you needed it?

 **XXX**

Stepping through the portal in full battle armor and a tattered leather cloak over my shoulders, the hood pulled up over my head and a False face over my features. I had used Biomancy to change my height, making me look smaller, more lithe and athletic, but I still moved the same until I took a step forwards and into the dark, desolate streets of the twisted city I now walked in. My stride became predatory in an instant, a grace I normally did not possess taking over as each step was light, silent and always on the balls of my feet to allow me the maximum amount of agility when it came time to move.

The wretched denizens of the city paid me no mind, those of higher standing noticed me, making a note of my presence before moving on, though a few of them were subtly fingering their weapons. I heard more than one look at me with something akin to predatory anticipation. It was understandable, really, my last visit to this place had resulted in a fair number of buildings being destroyed and at least seven people being forced to create a Humanoid centipede by shoving their heads up the asses of the next one. I had followed that up by injecting each one of them with a nano-toxin that shifted randomly through any number of pre-programmed effects. Those effects ranged from ripping the flesh apart all the way down to bone before rebuilding it, while keeping the person alive and in extreme agony, causing internal tumors that would detonate with corrosive, acidic puss before healing the wounds while leaving creating dozens of phantom pains around the body. My personal favorite had the person being turned into a rather good impression of a Chaos-spawn that looked like a cross between a Chicken with purple and pink feathers, a Crab and what looked like a highly mutated Zebra.

Needless to say, _that_ encounter had earned me a fair bit of standing among the Upper crust of the city's denizens. Though, one of them even offered me an apprenticeship for my innovative creation after wondering how long the nano-toxin would last. Short answer was that it would last as long as the victims remained among the living.

Still, walking through the crowd, I casually sidestepped an attempt on my life by a man with wings growing from his back, I reacted to this by backhanding his head hard enough to snap the neck, twist his head around three times before it finally fell off with its lower jaw missing. The crowd around me looked on in interest while I just kept walking, having not even bothered to turn and watch what had just happened as the body hit the ground.

Eventually, I came to a gate guarded by a number of men in full armor, many of them carrying large blades and holding them like they knew exactly how to use them. Approaching them, I spoke once.

"The most potent venom is the one that no one feels until the very last moment when it's work has been complete." I stated simply, for the upper crust of the city, it was a rather unimaginative password. The guard simply nodded once.

"Follow." He commanded as I did as such, following along after him as he moved at what Humans would have considered a blistering pace. I called it a light stroll through the countryside.

I followed the guard as we moved around corners, following twisting stairs that seemed to invert in on themselves before walking into a hall that looked like it had been the brain child of Escher before we turned left, went up the wall, went through a door way before ending up on another section of the same hall before walking down into the 'floor'. I always found the impossible physics and architecture of this place to be both interesting, amusing and utterly baffling, then again, it hadn't been made with Humans in mind.

After a few more minutes of walking, we came to a massive gate, decorated in images and a dozen illustrations of decadence of one form or another, ranging from some serious BDSM shit to what looked like some rather twisted torture sessions carried out by giggling men with a dozen arms. I could actually see the giggling as the pictures moved in a repeating loop if you watched them carefully enough. However, even as I watched, I saw the doors to the chamber beyond slowly open, a casually arrogant voice floating back through as I walked in.

"Do come in, my fine friend, I trust we have much to discuss?" The voice was so silky smooth that it would have made wiping your ass with velvet feel like someone was grinding into it with a Power Sander with bits of glass and salt smeared over it. I felt the cunning and intellect in the voice as I advanced into the chamber, a showing the a large chamber, empty save for a throne made from obsidian metal, razor-edged spikes and what looked like Human and alien skulls, flayed skin of a dozen colours and a rather interesting collection of murals to a thousand screaming souls that would move ever so slight whenever you weren't looking. Around the throne, I saw a dozen figures in armor with blades at the ready along with women that would have been the envy of even the least vain of the gender, translucent in skin tone with no imperfections, wearing what could only be described as armored bikinis and holding any number of weapons.

However, it was the one on the throne, the speaker, that held my interest. Approaching it, I paid the looks of intense interest from the rest of the court no heed, only the speaker had a passing idea of who I was, and even _he_ wasn't entirely sure of my true nature beyond that of not being as I appeared. I hadn't bothered enlightening him in any fashion, preferring it this was as I pulled down the hood from over my head, revealing sharp, sculpted features, hair darker than the void with eyes that gleamed an unnatural purple colour. A smile stretched across my features in a way that a Human would find terrifying, but, for these beings, it barely registered on the scale.

"Indeed we do... Archon Asdrubael Vect. Shall we begin?" I asked, my voice musical but carrying an underlying wrongness to it that had come in handy during dozens of situations.

Vect's mouth twitched into a sadistic grin of eager anticipation, more than enough answer for me as the doors to his throne room in Commoragh silently slide shut.

There were deals that needed to be struck and negotiations to be had, and such things were best done away from the prying eyes of those that would take advantage of such things, especially given the fickle nature of the Dark Eldar.

Well, not fickle, it was just a matter of holding their attention long enough to get what you wanted before leaving, swiftly to ensure that they didn't change their minds.

 **XXX**

AN: Well, there you have it, the MC is not nearly as innocent as he was implied to be, nor is his Legion as in the clear either.

Things will be becoming more... Interesting, from this point forwards... In the Chinese sense of the word...


	11. Setting the Foundations

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, I've made this and I hope you enjoy it, though I'll not be answering a few questions as that would ruin the plot that I've got planned for in the future. As for concerns that both my character and the Legion are too strong, I've got a few things planned to, hopefully, remove that. As for the whole thing about the Aesir's population... The cloning facilities were present to get a start up population, but they were never destroyed, just turned off after that. They would come back into service if needed to either provide rapid reinforcements or to ensure that the Aesir population don't go below a minimum limit. Either or.

Also, give thanks to souvikkundu0017 for checking this, sine he was nice enough to check over my attempts at writing.

Anyways, one with the Chapter!

 **XXX**

Marteleus was excited. No, excited was the wrong word for what he was feeling, in fact, he had no idea what he was feeling, but he was filled with an electric energy that also filled a great many of his Brothers as they travelled with their, trusted, Mechanicus allies to a planet. The planet itself was unknown to any of them, however, what made it so special was that the world was called Yggdrasil.

The homeworld of their Primarch.

Around the small fleet, as they prepared to move, many of the Astartes were busy at work, running countless checks and double checks on dozens of systems as they looked for any fault that might have made their vessels unable to continue. If such a thing was found, many fully planned to leave the ship behind until such a time that they could come and collect it later when they didn't have more pressing matters to attend to, no Legion, nor the Mechanicus, would blame them for that, thought it would result in a great amount of work for them to appease the Machine-Spirits of the discarded vessels to bring them back under control and contentment. Still, such thoughts of the additional work were pushed to the side in the face of the many things that had changed within the last few weeks since they had been reborn by the will of their Primarch.

No longer were the Astral Gears, now they had been reborn as the Unbroken. Their colours having changed to mark this event, their main colour being black with silver and crimson working as trim on their armors, not only that, but the symbol on their shoulders had changed as well. Gone was the gear coated in unholy fire, replaced with a simple symbol designed by their Primarch himself, an upside down triangle encircled by links of chain, holding strong while a single word was written on the triangle.

Invictus.

The Primarch said that it was a word from an ancient Language from Holy Terra, considered dead even before the Age of Exodus, but still used for ceremonies. It was called Latin, but the biggest thing that they found and enjoyed was that the same word was used as the name of the Dreadnought that the Aesir had built for their Primarch. It still took a bit of effort on their part not to get confused by the different types of Dreadnoughts, either the Aesir ship-types or the mechanical weapon platforms used by those too injured to continued to fight otherwise. The Second Legion had little need for the latter, mainly because of their own abilities as Biomancers, but some of their number interested in heavy armor and firepower had managed to find a use for these machines, converting them into cyber-linked warsuits and taking advantage of their ability to carry heavy weapons and armor as a result.

"Everything alright, Marteleus? You spaced out slightly for a moment." Marteleus mentally berated himself for his lose of focus in the presence of his Primarch as the Gene-sire of the Second Legion stood beside them, standing at ease on the bridge of the _Necessity_ as he looked around. Honestly, it wasn't surprising. The _Necessity_ had been modified a dozen times over and it showed, the bridge of the Battle Barge was small, compact and filled with a dozen cogitators and Servitors going from section to section. Only consoles were present, for each aspect of the ship that the Legionnaires felt was needed, but anything else was considered as being inefficient and, as such, was discarded.

"Yes, Lord Marcus, merely lost in thought over what to expect." The Astartes covered his lapse in thought quickly, drawing a knowing smile from his Gene-sire along with a nod.

"What about? Given the current buzz going around, I'd have thought that you would be studying the texts that I gave to the Legion." He remarked as Marteleus smiled. After being rechristened as the Unbroken, their Primarch had given them a number of documents, all dating back to the Dark Age of Technology, or before that, adapted or created by their Lord to suit their purposes. The Art of War, On War, Sherlock Holmes and a dozen other titles now filled data-slates throughout the _Necessity_ as dozens of Marines, now individually called Warforged, took their time memorizing each and every word of these sacred documents as well as carefully filing them within the Librarium of the Legion. However, one such document always held his attention.

It was simply called the Seventy Maxims, and the ancient knowledge within this sacred document had already become a large part of the Legion.

Many had already started altering their styles of combat as a result, though more than a few had even added some of the Maxims to their armors, engraved for the purpose to serve as reminders of the more useful ones.

"That and a few other things, Lord Marcus." Marteleus replied in turn, getting a nod from his lord as the Demi-god looked out from the bridge, seeing the gathering of ships that were due to come with them.

"Such as?" The Primarch asked, curious as he continued to look ahead of them to the gathering ships and watching them arrange themselves with mechanical precision. Understandable, especially considering that those they were watching happened to be members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Marteleus hopped from one foot to the other as he glanced around for a moment before finally answering.

"... The Aesir, you mentioned that you created them?" Marteleus spoke fearfully. When it was discovered by the Legion that their Primarch had created the Aesir, many did know what to think, some felt angry that they were going to be replaced before they even had the honor of fighting beside their Primarch while others were filled with sorrow for similar reasons. In the end, most chose to hold their final decisions until after getting the opinion of their Primarch.

"Ah, I see. You believe that I created them to act as your replacements, correct?" He asked, the newly rechristened Sharpened Shield glanced to the side before reluctantly nodding.

"There have been... Whispers within the Legion that we would be... Replaced by the Aesir before we even had the chance prove ourselves worthy of fighting beside you, Lord Marcus." Marteleus remarked as the Primarch snorted at that, surprising him.

"That is the thing about rumors, my Son, often times, they are nothing more than that; Rumors, unsubstantiated pieces of gossip that amount to nothing at all. The Aesir were created because I needed an army when sought to take control of Yggdrasil, which I called Junkheap back then. I will admit that I envisioned them as being used as the template for an army, as they have become, but I always put it at a level above that of normal Humans. Astartes have already shown themselves to be superior to an Aesir in terms of strength, reaction times and durability, as shown by the attack of the Wolves, but I never intended my Aesir to fight other Transhuman super soldiers. Orks, yes, morally corrupt Humans, yes, Eldar, perhaps, but never something akin to the Astartes. The only reason I even won the day during the initial conflict with the Wolves was due to Russ's own stupidity and having them outnumbered and out matched by a significant amount." The Primarch stated, causing the dread and fear to lift from his Hearts as he smiled and bowed his head.

"Thank you for absolving me of such things, Lord Primarch, I shall do my best in the future to avoid basing my conclusions on unreliable information sources." Marcus smiled back at that.

"I hope so." Turning back to the window, the Primarch's smile grew as he spoke once more.

"Alright, everyone, looks like the fleet is ready. Time to be under way."

 **XXX**

Sitting in his study, the Emperor of Mankind, Adam Kadmon as he had come to call himself, looked at his notes as he looked over scans of the Aesir that had been covertly collected by his Companions during their meeting on the, now-named, planet of Kilomiz. It was interesting, their armor and weapons were advanced, yes, but certainly not so advanced as to immediately make them stand out, especially when one came to consider exactly what Humanity had been capable of during the heights of the Iron War. Compared to such things, the current stock of armors used by the Aesir were remarkably primitive.

However, that didn't make them useless. Each armor was strong enough to be the equal of the Astartes Power Armor all Legions wore, a personal shielding system ensuring that they were capable of withstanding similar amounts of punishment. The built-in jetpack was a nice touch, aided by an Anti-grav system to lighten the weight of the Warrior in question, but still not that advanced.

The Aesir themselves were a different story, each one was a Human that had been augmented with a series of mechanisms that were dreadfully familiar. He should know since he helped design them for the Void Marines during the Iron War. Scans had shown that these augments had been modified, changed to the point that each Aesir was effectively born with them, already making them orders of magnitudes more potent than base-line Humans. However, the biggest point of interest for Adam was a singular implant in the back of the skull, attached to the brain and connected so thoroughly that one would be unable to separate the two without killing the patient and destroying the implant itself.

"Well, it seems your Legion really did take after you, Marcus..." Adam muttered to himself as he leaned back into his chair.

"A Warmind implant system, spread across an entire race at birth..." Adam wondered as he cupped his chin. "What were you planning when you came up with that? A Warmind was used by soldiers for communication and psychic... Management..."

Adam smiled at that as he considered what he had just figured out.

"Clever." He muttered to himself as he made a few notes before closing the file down.

It truly was a clever idea, creating a psychic network at the moment of birth around ever member of the Aesir, cutting off their emotions and beings from the Warp, or simply creating a closed system where any energy generated could be used as fuel by the Aesir... It was genius to create such a thing, even more so when Adam considered the fact that he was able to watch such a large-scale test of the viability of such a system.

Suddenly, the idea of allowing Marcus to keep his domain outside of the Imperium, but aligned with it seemed to be bearing the start of great fruits. The Emperor's own insight into the technologies he had observed were allowing him to see exactly what Marcus planned and, frankly, the Emperor wished to see how effective these designs would be, especially since, if his guesses were right, they _should_ be able to prevent the corrupting influence of Chaos from touching the souls of the Aesir. Leaning forwards slightly, he considered the original agreement that had been signed by him and his Son, still rather baffled by the way his Son could go from being so hostile to friendly so quickly, but guessed it was just another aspect of his fluid and mercurial nature.

He considered changing a line or two, to have the signatures forged and adding another subsection that would grant his Son a little more freedom with his Empire rather than believing that he had pulled the wool over Adam's eyes with his request for those Warrants of Trade. There were only so many ways to interpret such things, but one thing he knew to be true was that it would allow the Aesir to continue, either within their remote territory within Segmentum Obscurus or within colonies that belonged to 'Rogue Trader Dynasties'. A clever ploy to get around the wording of the treaty, but not clever enough as to be impossible for him not to notice.

Neither was it impossible for him not to notice the rather interesting activities within the Second Legion, the innovation of new or similar designs for old technologies coming back to the foreground of the Second Legion. Honestly, he understood what they were doing, Psykers were seen as walking time-bombs and Tech-priests were seen as crazed mystics, the Second Legion was both and suffered from both views, originally believing that they were being restrained and entrapped. As a result, they had started to work on technologies that were skirting the boarder of what had been forbidden by him and the Mechanicus, it was nothing that would have seen them purged, things heavily frowned upon, yes, but nothing too serious at first.

Adam allowed it, if only to allow the Legion to progress and try and throw off the beliefs that had been thrown over them, which had worked to an extent even as they started working on technologies that bordered the edges of Tech-Heresy and Treason. Thankfully, it seemed his Son knew his limits, either unwilling to go too far, or looking for a more secure location to conduct such experiments, Adam did not know, but he would have to investigate such things. He made another note to keep an eye on Marcus, if only because he had a feeling that much would revolve around that particular child of his, while also making a note to see about searching out any hidden labs that the Second Legion might try and set up out of his sight, to ensure they didn't cross any lines that they weren't meant to. Then again, with the aid of their newly discovered Primarch, Adam could guess that finding them would become a much more difficult task than before, not to mention the fact that he was sure that Marcus had learned much more than just a few bits of history and trivia from the remains of those Dark Age ships. For proof, one merely needed to look at his work in creating the Aesir, their origins obvious to those with the knowledge to see it.

However, that was something to contemplate at another time.

"Now... What kind of reward should I gift that child with...?" Adam wondered aloud, considering a subtle gift for his child as a reward for Marcus's work to free Humanity from Chaos. Suddenly, a wide, beaming smirk crossed his features as he remembered that the Warrants of Trade had not been sent to Marcus yet, nor were there any specifications for the Warrants beyond the immediately obvious.

Yes, he could work with that...

 **XXX**

Looking up from her work, Frida shifted through a dozen holographic screens as she continued to check the progress of the Astartes as they underwent their further augmentations. Honestly, Frida was both excited and slightly fearful of what the results were, but she was sure that, whatever the results were to be, that the Great Father would be able to keep them under control.

It had been three weeks since the Astartes had arrived on Yggdrasil, but those weeks had been... _Interesting_.

Initially, tensions had run high between the Aesir and the Astartes of the Second Legion, both due to the Aesir being creations of their Primarch along with the Aesir having a rather bad first impression of the Astartes due to the actions of the Space Wolves. However, even with that, they still carried out their duties to the Great Father, doing their best to ensure that this tension did not interfere in the commands given to them by the Great Father.

Regardless, these feelings of tension soon came to reach critical mass, but before they could explode, something happened to change the opinions of the Aesir towards the Astartes of the Second Legion.

The Aesir and the Second Legion started bonding over the stupidity of the Space Wolves.

Things progressed rapidly from there after the ice was melted, strong bonds forming as the Aesir worked to teach the newest of the Great Father's children about their technology while the Astartes, in turn, worked to help to both improve it as well as enhance the military capabilities of the Aesir beyond what they had already become. Both sides accepted the help of the other, the Aesir being created as an all-round people, dedicated to protecting those under their aegis while the Astartes were created as some of the finest warriors Humanity had ever created, it was with that in mind that they strove, together, to improve each other.

It was also the reason for Frida's current work.

Along the way to teach the Astartes about the new wonders that the Aesir possessed, Frida had the idea of enhancing them with the same technologies and techniques that the Great Father had used to create the Aesir, in the hopes of enhancing their already formidable capabilities. She had brought this up with her Lord and he had approved even as he taught them some of his own uses for Biomancy beyond simple Healings, showing them how to burn their flesh into sheets of organic Black Plate and Titan Skin. He had approached whole heartedly, as had the commanders of the Second Legion, or Battle-Forgers, as the Officers had become known as.

And, now, the Legion of thirty thousand took turns slipping into a liquid filled tank, clothed only in a pair of tight shorts to provide them with some level of decency while they underwent a process commonly being called the Rebirthing.

Those Legionaries that had already undergone the process were looked at with awe by their comrades, their bodies having been augmented further by the same technologies that put the Aesir so far above normal Humans. Their bodies gaining the same lines of cyan denoting a second circularity system while they further gained from the technologies. There strength was enhanced beyond reason, their ability to recover from injuries had gone from legendary to virtually mythical with wounds being able to heal almost as fast as they were dealt, aided by the immense Psychic power that each Marine carried. Not only that, but the Astartes had now gained something that many members of the Aesir had been unsure of granting to them until Frida had finally decided on the course of action, her word being great enough that no Aesir would question it.

The Astartes were granted a sub-division of the ODIN.

Joining the ODIN Field had many effects on the Astartes of the Second Legion, one among them was that many had started to join in the subtle worship of the Great Father, having seen just the most visible traces of his power that he have spent decades learning to carefully hide behind veils and false images. The result of so much work undone and showing that the Great Father was, in fact, _far_ more powerful than any of the Astartes knew, well, they knew he was powerful, but they never knew he was _that_ powerful.

"Is everything alright, Lady Frida?" Frida was suddenly taken out of her musings as she turned around to see the form of the War-Forger, formerly First Forger, Marteleus of the Unbroken. Looking around she saw him standing by the door, his body covered by his new armor and made even more impressive by the various changes that he was already making to it.

The armor was something that the Great Father had created for them, a massive upgrade to their old armor as it used Aesir technologies to improve upon what the Imperium had built. It was smooth, more form hugging with thick plates covering any vulnerable weak point and lacking the bulky backpack-mounted power source and life support system as all things were move compact and placed within reinforced containers within the armor itself. A high neck guard encircled the neck armor and came up to just above the jaw of the helmet while the helmet itself, which was mag-locked to the War-Forger's waist, was made from thick, bonded plates of Black Plate and had a recessed, T-shaped visor with the visor going up, angled slightly to touch just above the temples on the front of it while also going down to just above top lip of his mouth.

Externally, it was impressive. Internally, that statement only became more valid as one could easily see just how enhanced the internal systems were when compared to those of the original armor's were. The electro-fiber bundles used for strength enhancement were replaced with semi-solid ceramic composites that allowed for faster reaction times and greatly increased strength. Auto-repair systems were installed along with memory metal-based self-sealing systems to ensure that the void-seal of the armor was always in place. Lines of Warp-conductive materials traced every centimetre of the armor, infusing it with the power of its user to ensure that there was virtually no difference between warrior and armor, further helped by, not only, the Black carapace but also the secondary DNI connections. Multiple Refraction Field generators built into the armor and further enhanced by the psychic might of each individual Marine to impossible heights, even as they were wrapped in layers of Phase Iron, Psy-Jammers and miniature Gellar Fields.

While the rejection rates of the Great Father's Gene-Seed prevented massive numbers of Astartes from being birthed, the Unbroken were still powerful, even if that was in terms of individual warriors than raw numbers.

"Yes, War-Forger. I'm just checking the progress of your Brothers. So far, the Rebirthing is going well, but I, and the Great Father, would both prefer it if no mistakes or accidents took place that might threaten their continued existence." Frida replied as the War-Forger nodded in understanding, his 2.5 metre tall armored bulk moving with remarkable grace and silence where one would expect him to plod along, his every footstep like thunder.

"Indeed, though I can say that, while such measures are much appreciated by all those that make up the Legion, the more impatient members have been noted to being getting rather annoyed by the delays to their own Rebirthing. Some have even been thinking of asking the Great Father if another facility can be built to accelerate their Rebirthing." Marteleus stated with mirth as Frida snorted in turn. Such a request had been made a dozen times before, and a dozen times it had been rejected for one reason and one alone: For the conversion process to work required the absolute best among a dozen fields, and with the Great Father dividing his attention between a dozen projects, these few intellectual elites could only be in so many places at once to oversee the transformations.

"I can already tell that they will mirror those before them who had asked the same thing." Frida remarked with her own amusement. Martelues's lips twitched upwards.

"Quite." The War-Forger remarked in turn as things lapsed into a silence for a moment before Frida asked another question.

"By the way, War-Forger, how goes the augmentations of you and your Brothers among the Sharpened Shield?" She asked, referring to the renamed Honorguard of the Primarch. Marteleus looked up, his eyes thoughtful as he cupped his chin.

"The Great Father is seeing to the transformation of each member with great care. A single Shield takes months, maybe even years given how long some of my Brothers have taken, to augment, and even then, the end result is as much a work of art as it is a process of science, requiring great skill in the arts of biology and Biomancy that only the Great Father has learned enough to carry out. So far, only myself and 24 others have undertaken the process, but the others that remain are looking forwards to the process greatly." And Frida knew that was no exaggeration. Where the Great Father got the augments that were given to them was unknown, but the end results were well worth it.

When compared to normal Astartes, Warforged were leagues ahead of them in terms of individual power, each one being faster, stronger, tougher and able to recover from any wound so long as they remained alive, even though the differences in each field varied from one point to another. Not only that, but that was without bringing in the sheer psychic power and technical prowess of their Legion, ensuring that each one carried a constantly shifting arsenal of weapons and wargear into battle. However, within the Legion, another league of skill was also present, those select few of the Sharpened Shield who were to the Warforged what the Warforged were to normal Astartes. Those of the Sharpened Shield took the aspects of the Second Legion to new heights and beyond, to such an extent that many thought they had been gifted with a much more distilled, potent Gene-seed, extracted from the life-blood of the Primarch himself and augmented further.

"I can imagine. Though, I can' help but wonder where the Great Father got the augments that you, yourself, now use. Can you tell me since I've not had the chance of requesting such knowledge from the Great Father?" Frida asked as Marteleus turned to her with a small smile on his face.

"I'm afraid, Lady Frida, that I asked the same question of Lord Marcus. All he would say is that he gained the knowledge needed for our Rebirth from the Blood of Ten Thousand Blades and the remains of those that Danced among Thunder and Lightning."

 **XXX**

"The pact is sealed, and shall remained sealed, least you learn the folly of those in the dark." Came the cryptic words of the stranger within his home. Vect honestly had no idea who the stranger was, only that he came offering a deal that had given rise to opportunity. Glancing at the strange being once more, Vect, founder of the newly created Kabal of the Black Heart, couldn't help but wonder exactly _what_ it was.

On the outside, it looked like just another one of his kin, marked by gaunt features, pale skin and sharp eyes that seemed to rove the darkest places within his throne room, looking for even the slightest hints of betrayal. It found none, for the deal it offered was too sweet and succulent to throw away without deep and extremely thorough investigation and thought. Still, that did not help the all-encompassing sense that something was _off_ about the being, that though was clothed in the flesh of his kin, that it was not like them.

"Of course, so long as you keep up your end of the bargain, I shall endeavor to keep up mine." He remarked with a satisfied smirk as the being merely nodded, something he fully expected. The deal was rather simply, as long as Vect held the other Kabals in check and ensured that they stayed away from a rather difficult to raid area of space that the Mon'keigh of the fledgling 'Imperium of Man' called the Gothic Sector, he would get a supply of slaves unlike any other. The deal had been in place for over a Mon'keigh century by this point and it had paid for itself by the Cruiser load, the slaves delivered were always a mix, but they could always expect a dozen Humans of strong constitution and high pain tolerances. Such things were often gifted to Haemonculi of a dozen covens, who found the challenge of inciting such agonies upon these slaves to be one of their greatest thrills, and when they screamed, it was always all the greater than a normal Mon'keigh.

"The next shipment shall be waiting for you." The being that only called itself Tenebris stated as Vect nodded in response, already knowing where they would be as he mentally made plans for what he could do with these ones.

A dozen ideas already spun within the mind of Vect, viewing how just who to trade such slaves with to gain the greatest advantage.

And he already had an idea of one such group that would serve him well in ensuring his rise to power.

 **XXX**

Taemera looked on as with a smile at what was taking place below her.

Below her was a moon, small and hidden, locked in the gravitation field of a Gas Giant along with several others that spun around it in a complex web of gravitational tides that was constantly changing, shifting and altering as various gravitation fields interacted with one another. And yet, the gravity of this singular moon remained at what most Humans would consider as being perfectly habitable, with a thriving ecosystem and a surviving Human population that had constructed a nomadic society.

Then again, that was by design.

Taemera smiled at what she observed on the world below her, hidden by all that would look for it by a dozen satellites casting a false image into the stars of a barren rock while dozens of Aetheric warps and devices build by Marcus ensured that the planet itself remained hidden from all those that would look for it. It was necessary, for this world was part of a complex design which Taemera knew was already working well, acting as the formation of a complex web of conspiracy and plots that even the Daemons of the Great Ocean were unaware of due to their eyes not seeing this world.

On it, the Humans were breed, grown with the specific aim of making them hardy, strong and stubborn. Psychic messages were used to weave complex instincts into them, ensuring that they would obey subtle instructions inexactly the right order to ensure that they carried out their roles and were played like puppets on strings. Millions were born, raised and allowed to die upon the moon as it was submerged within the Warp, increasing the flow of time while also eliminating all those that were not strong enough to survive. The Psyker and Pariah genes were intentionally targeted, the former to remove a threat to the plan while the latter was for study and experimentation, something of a growing curiosity among the Aesir. Still, the Pariahs served their purpose while the rest of the Humans served theirs.

"How goes the work?" Came the voice of her master as he stood beside her.

"Slow. Submerging the world into the tides of the Sea of Souls does speed up the work, but we must be careful not push the time within the Warp too far, least all of this work be undone." Taemera remarked as Marcus nodded from his side of the observation room. Through the bond, she could already feel him going over the events that had lead to this.

It had been the discovery of a planet with a Human population, the starting point for this great work. The population ad appeared normal on the surface, but if one looked closely, they would have seen the corrupting influence of the Four buried under an illusion. Marcus had seen through it in a moment and had been on the cusp of ordering the entire population to be put to the sword...

... When an idea had come to him.

He ordered the complete purge of all adults, men and women, over the age of five standard years and had them collected under great secrecy, purging their existence of any trace of the Warp and ensuring that even the Daemons of the Warp themselves would not be able to track these children as they were brought to this world, a world that had been specially prepared for them. A dozen generations passed by for them, between then and now even those it had only been a few dozen decades for those outside of the perimeter. Along with that, Marcus had weaved something into their very genes, something he called a Gene-song, a web of directives written into their very beings that would guide their evolution at a subconscious level. This, mixed with dozens of Psychic messages, compulsions and even the more heavy handed use of pheromones ensured that the evolution went the way that the Great Father wished before they reached an apex.

Within decades, these works had started to pay back their creator with the final product. A race of Adhumans that were breed for low intelligence, high pain tolerances, well developed vocal cords and lung capacity and a dozen other little things that had resulted in this new race. From there, they had been gathered, from there, they had been processed and mind-wiped of anything related to the location of their former home.

Before they were handed over to the hands of the Dark Eldar, to Asdurbael Vect, Achron of the newly birthed Kabal of the Black Heart.

Within a matter of days, negotiations had begun. Within a matter of weeks, a pact was sealed in the blood of those that had signed it. Vect would get support in the form of slaves to ensure his ascension to the overlord of the Dark city in exchange for the Dark Eldar to remain outside of the Gothic Sector, the name given to the Sector from which the Aesir ruled by the Imperials.

Having seen the skeins of fate, Taemera knew that Marcus had already changed much, accelerating the ascension of Vect by nearly two millennia already by causing him to give birth to his Kabal so early. A dozen steps had already been planned out in advance, stretching all the way down to the point that Vect would, eventually, role the Dark city of Commorragh and the pact would remain. Millions of contingencies were also in place, scattered throughout the Segmentum and made impossible to find, frozen in vast stasis arrays and enshrouded further so that none but a select few even knew that they existed.

In this way, Marcus had shown himself with a cunning unlike any other, able to match wits with even the Lord of Plots as the labyrinthine twists and turns of his mind were plotting his next move with a near machine-like precision that was backed up by the powers of the Warp. Very few things surprised him, and what surprises he did encounter were dealt with quickly.

"The next shipment is ready, I assume?" He asked, getting a nod from the former Eldar, turned High War-Hexer of the Vanir Courts.

"As you commanded. Over five million of the Su'jets have been prepared, mind-wiped and are currently locked in stasis aboard the _Illusion of Freedom_." He nodded at that, a smile slowly spreading across his face, simply looking out the window as he looked towards the planet below.

"Good."

 **XXX**

"I take it, that you like what I have created?" The voice came as a surprise, shocking Kelbor from his internal prayers in awe of the God-Machine before him. It was but one of the massive God-Machines that was housed within the facilities of Asgard, but it, like it's brothers, were utterly awe inspiring as the Tech-Priests of the Fleet that had come with the Second Legion had spread out to offer prayers to the Machine God for granting them such a sight. Turning around, Kelbor was granted another surprise as he turned to see the creator of these machines step into the room, wearing his full armor as he had already noted that the Primarch of the Second Legion was an exemplar of the tenants of his Legion, even if he had never met them before.

"It is a sign of the Omnissiah's blessing upon you." Kelbor replied as his optics shifted back to the God-machine, still trying to learn the secrets of these machines, to little effect. The Primarch merely smiled at that.

"I hope he has blessed my works, if only because I would be horrified if they fell due to some fault of my own." The Primarch remarked, surprising the Magos by the use of such terms, but nodded as it seemed that this Primarch as unlike his brute of a Brother, Russ.

"Then we can only pray that he shall protect them from the Xenos as they do his holy work." The Primarch nodded in agreement before turning more fully to the Tech-Priest.

"I had heard that you had been looking for me, Magos. Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked, once more surprising the leader of the Mechanicus expedition as Horus was often more direct in trying to figure out what they wanted before hand while Russ either demanded to know or simply ignored them utterly. This was a nice change of pace.

"This God-Machine... I wish to learn more about it and the technologies of the Aesir. The Treaty of Kilomiz prevents us from simply taking the technologies, but, as your guests, might we be allowed to look into the inner workings of one of the Omnissiah's great works?" Kelbor asked, almost begging as the Primarch smiled and pulled something from the back of his belt, a standard Imperial Data-slate.

"I'm not going to give you access to everything, but these should be enough to satisfy you curiosity." The Primarch said as he handed over the Data-slate easily as Kelbor wasted no time in accessing it before his systems froze in shock and awe at what he was looking at.

Plans unfolded within his mind, detailed technical designs that, while lacking material dispositions, contained massive amounts of detail on the makeup of the massive God-Machine, _Jormungand-class Battle Titan_ , which slept soundlessly before him as he looked over the designs again and again without pause, trying to find the slightest flaw in the data to see if they were some kind of cruel joke at his own expense.

He found none.

"... You would grant me such a bounty of the Omnissiah?" Kelbor asked, having slowly turned to look at smiling Primarch.

"I would grant such a bounty to an ally that would help keep our secrets from the ignorant that would misuse their power for petty aims, and who would shun what they do not understand out of some misplaced belief that they know best simply from seeing the worst of a given technological path." The Primarch replied, his smile still fixed in place as Kelbor looked back at the plans for the God-Machine, looking closely as he noted a dozen things that any puritan of the Mechanicus, one that abided by the Treaty of Olympus Mons would have had him shot for. And yet, he trusted Kelbor and his comrades to keep such things secret from the wider Imperium and Mechanicus?

"... If we are to keep such things hidden from the gaze of the Mechanicus, we would wish for a compromise." Kelbor said as, if he had a mouth, he would have grinned.

The Primarch merely smiled.

 **XXX**

"Hello, Father, I trust all it well?" I asked as I saw the Emperor step out of his Stormbird, it's surface covered in golden armor and armed with weapons that were, quite clearly, advanced beyond the norm of the current era. Around him, I saw a dozen Custodians swarm, their hands on their weapons as, even behind armored helmets, I had little doubt that they were scanning the world around them for threats to the Emperor, I remembered reading a fair bit about them and knew that they had an instinctive drive to protect him that went deeper than blood and bone. The Emperor merely smiled at me as he walked down to meet me.

"I am well, My Son, though, I see that the past decade has treated you quite well in turn." He said, gesturing to the honorguard I had arranged for him, two lines on either side of the landing ramp each one composed of Warforged of the Sharpened Shield, all equipped with their armor and standing taller than most Space Marines even had a right to, weapons in hand and each line be formed from at least fifteen marines, being three marines deep. In total, it was me, the Emperor, 99 Custodians and about ninety Warforged.

If a fight broke out, I wouldn't know who to place money on, but I'd try and avoid that since I very much enjoyed the idea of living. Glancing back at the Emperor, I spotted him glancing at one of them, the one at my side as he looked at Marteleus even as I felt his will seeping through the Warp, examining the physical body behind my Marines as I waited for a moment in horror as I realized what was happening. My Marines hadn't had _nearly_ the same amount of practice I had hiding my own presence, so the Emperor could examine them much more easily.

"... Hmmm... I must say, my Son, you do impressive work. The augments you have given your Legion have exceeded my expectations, and I was honestly thinking that you would have merely settled for giving them the same augments that you had given to the Aesir when you created them." He remarked as he looked at me, interest and curiosity dancing his eyes as a knowing smile slipped on to his lips as we moved onwards.

"Tell me, how did you manage to recreate a lesser version of the augments I gave to my Thunder Warriors along with those of my Custodians?" Around me, I could see the immediate reaction to that as the Custodians suddenly tensed, their body language shifting from being alert to practically screaming their attention as they started moving their heads, no longer trying to be subtle about it as they shifted their hands to ready positions, weapons already moving into waiting hands as power fields flickered to life. They closed in a step around the Emperor, their weapons pointed at both myself and my Warforged.

I had to admit, it was not a nice position to be in, especially since I was pretty damned sure that a number of their weapons were Abrathic in nature.

My Marines, on the other hand, had frozen in shock and awe as they realized that they now shared a lesser version of those augments used to create the bodyguards of the Emperor himself. I could hardly blame them, since I had only shared such information with Marteleus, and he had only shared it with Frida. Still, the Marines did not take the threat to my life lightly as their weapons were at the ready in moments, shifting to aim at the Custodians as myself and the Emperor merely stood between them, both of us seemingly ignoring the clusterfuck happening around them. My eyes were locked on the ground as I wondered how to reply before I sighed.

 _Fuck it!_

"My post-cognition is not limited to merely pieces of metal, nor does it require me to touch an object. While physical contact with an object serves the best, I can instinctually carry it out via sight, though I need to spend time to un-muddle the information I gain from the experience. When you first arrived on Kilomiz, I tried using it on you, but that failed rather spectacularly before I turned it on your bodyguards. I believed that knowing their capabilities would aid in both any negotiations as well as if the talks failed." I explained simply, it was the truth, just not the complete truth. The Emperor nodded as his smile stayed in place.

"And the Thunder Warrior augments?" He asked, still curious.

"I saw a banner within the Palace while I was spending some time wondering around. It was an accident as I sometimes lose focus and, well, I saw them. With my Post-cognition, I can investigate groups via observing items they held." I stated simply as the Emperor nodded before a slight gesture caused the Custodians to stand down, I breathed a silent sigh of relief as I did the same through the ODIN as, if anything, the smile on the Emperor's face grew just a bit bigger.

"Now that the... _Excitement_ is out of the way, shall we find some place more private to talk, since that is what you requested in your message?" I asked as he nodded. I nodded back as I turned and started to walk, but not before glancing over my shoulder to look at my progenitor.

"By the way, what _did_ you want to talk about? You were rather vague in the message." I remarked as he merely kept smiling at me.

I remained silent for the rest of the journey.

 **XXX**

It took thirty minutes for the massive convoy of Custodians and Warforged to finally reach one of the upper levels of Asgard, below the Orbital Branches by well above the city-scape-like layers of the planet. Around the room, a dozen Custodians arrayed themselves as my Warforged remained outside, by my orders, as not to cause another incident between themselves and the Custodians. Both the Emperor and myself had taken a seat on the massive chairs that I had seen provided for our meeting, each one was heavily reinforced to support our armor-clad forms even as they were still comfortable to sit in. Between us was a table with a small set of drinks and cups, the Custodians had already checked it for poisons or threats, and found nothing.

I had no intention of killing the man, especially since I was pretty damned sure that any poison would do exactly fuck all to him.

Nodding in thanks as the Custodian moved away, I saw him pour himself a drink before leaving the glass bottle for me to pour my own glass. The contents of which were a potent brew of Aesir Ale, the stuff would have killed a normal Human from even a single drop while a full glass would have an Aesir, if not tipsy, then rather light headed. The Emperor took his drink and gulped down half of the murky brown liquid in one gulp, showing his own experience as he swallowed it without trouble, humming in contentment.

"... Tell me, what is this drink called? It's got a rather nice kick to it, especially with that aftertaste. Strong, smooth and with a hint of... Apples and Pineapples? Hmmm... Interesting combination." I merely offered a shrug.

"Aesir Ales don't have names, rather, they have grades. The one I chose for our meeting is Alpha Prime grade stuff, I'm usually the only one that can drink the stuff since normal Humans would die from a single drop and even Aesir have to be careful since a few glasses are more than enough to see them passed out on the floor." I remarked as the Emperor nodded.

"I think I'll need to get some to take back to the Imperial Palace with me, especially since it's been a long time since I've drunk anything that good." He remarked as I made another half-shrug.

"I'll have a few cases gathered by your Stormbird for when you leave." I stated as he offered a smile at that.

"My thanks, Marcus, but you and I both now that I didn't come here just to discuss the fine alcohol that your Nation produces." I raised an eyebrow at that as I noted his face, the smile lessened, turning more towards a knowing smirk.

"And what is it that you came here to discuss?" I asked, suppressing the nervous shiver that ran down my spine as my body remained still thanks to my own skill at Biomancy and my ability to suppress my body language.

"Many things, but first of all; I know." I couldn't help the dread that had been hiding in the pit of my stomach at that, it implied many, ominous things, none of them good.

"Know what?" I asked, a memory of my own meeting with Marteleus years ago springing to mind at this as I almost dreaded the next words.

"I know that your Legion, even before they met you, were carrying out many experiments that skirted the edges of the Treaty of Olympus Mons and would have seen the entire Legion purged for that, even if they hadn't broken the Treaty itself. I know that, even after you learned of these things, you allowed them to continue while staying silent about them, when you _should_ have told me of them so that I might have dealt with them. I know that the Aesir were your creations, I helped _make_ the augments for the Void Marines, so I think I'll be able to recognize both them and the WARMIND implants. Also, you really need to be more subtle about it when you gather allies to help in such research, the sudden disappearance of some of the more... _Fringe_ members of the Mechcanicus did not go unnoticed by everyone, even if the Mechanicus itself thought little of it." He remarked simply as I glanced around the room, suddenly aware of just how _many_ Custodians were in the room with us. Out of the original 99, a third of them were in the room with us while the rest were outside with my Sharpened Shields. All of them were fully armed and armored and, given the power behind the weapons of the Adeptus Custodes, I had little doubt that they would have been able to cause a shit load of damage before going down. Combined with their experience, and what I was imagining was a nightmare situation that was made little better by the fact that the Emperor was right before me as I wondered whether he planned to make me 'disappear' for this.

"I see." I offered neutrally as I took a sip of my drink, my powers already loosening inside me as his smile widened slightly, probably knowing exactly what I was thinking as I readied my weapons for that situation to go to hell. However, before the tension could come to a head, the Emperor raised his hand and waved me off.

"However, even for all that, I can't help but give my approval for what you've done so far." I almost collapsed at that, wondering what had caused _that_ kind of a reaction as he continued.

"You've done a lot of things that I can't help but be impressed with, from creating what could be the beginnings of a society that is incapable of feeling the touch of Chaos to improving upon my own work with the Astartes and combining elements from various other projects, even my own bodyguards. That is impressive, though I have to ask why you felt the need to do such a thing?" He asked as I relaxed slightly back into my chair, weapons still at the ready while I took a sip of my Ale.

"My Legion was never going to be massive, sure, it is relatively large at roughly thirty thousand strong, but that number is tiny when compared to the other legions. For example, the First Legion has a total of over two hundred thousand Astartes within its ranks, a massive number when compared to my own Legion's. Not only that, but my Gene-seed has a particularly high rejection rate, with it also requiring rather more specific needs within those due for implantation. One in every hundred aspirants have the needed specifications to be implanted, but out of those taken, only one in every twenty even make it through the process and live, the rest usually die. The process has been made slightly better with the introduction of the Aesir, reducing it from one in every two thousand to one in every five hundred to make it through to becoming an Astartes, but I still know that my Legion will never truly grow to be that large, so I went a different way." I explained as the Emperor nodded.

"You favor your warriors to have greater individual strength rather than relying on massive numbers of them to make up for the difference in apparent power." The Emperor noted as I nodded.

"Hence why I approved and even encouraged their experiments towards self-improvement in the hopes of becoming stronger. My Sharpened Shield was created along a similar mind set when I saw the augments of your Custodians and the Thunder Warriors. They managed to obtain lesser versions of both mixed together, but it would still be difficult for them to match themselves against your own Custodians without employing one of their aces, such as Psychic abilities or their tech. And, even then, I never planned to give my entire Legion such augments, merely those that serve as my honorguard. Currently, that sits at five hundred strong, but I was thinking of expanding that later on." I further explained before stopping as the Emperor nodded.

"I suspected as much, though I wished to hear it from you, Marcus." I nodded in turn, I could respect that.

"So... What now?" I asked, curious and slightly tense as my eyes glanced around the room. The Emperor snorted.

"For one thing, you can call me Adam." He said, completely throwing me off balance at that as he continued. "It's been a long time since I've encountered someone that I can actually talk to like this without them either cowering away from me or falling over themselves to submit to me. Not to mention that I wasn't lying about being impressed with your work so far."

Slowly, I nodded at that.

"Ok, ah, Adam. I can understand wanting to talk to someone that won't fall for your bullshit and is willing to talk to you like a Human being, but I'm pretty sure that there is more to it than that." I remarked slowly, unsure of what the hell was going on. Adam nodded at that, easily agreeing with my statement.

"Oh, that goes without saying. The simple fact is that I know that I should punish you for what you and your Legion have done, especially with going around my back to get what you needed, but I can't help but be proud with the end results. So, I'm willing to let it slide, _this time_ , and even reward you for what you did with the creation of the Aesir, on the condition that I get to learn about any changes you made to the Aesir's WARMIND that you might have made that make it different when compared to the original. Along with that, I'll allow you to continue your research, but _only_ within certain boundaries. No Warp-based technologies, No Men of Iron and absolutely _nothing_ to do with creating Gene-engineered War-Beasts. Am I clear?" I nodded easily as I suppressed a cold sweat. Even though I knew the Emperor, Adam, was powerful, it was easy to forget such things given how easy going he had appeared around me. Sure, I had seen him in his guise as the Emperor and how he acted in public, but to see the waves of power rippling off him and his face turn to stone as his eyes honed in on me like a Laser...

Well, that was an experience I would _never_ forget.

"I understand." I stated, the hand holding my glass shaking slightly as I tried, and failed slightly, to suppress it as he nodded with a smile.

"I have a full list of the things I want you to steer clear of within my Stormbird that I'll give you before I leave, which will extend to your new Mechanicus allies on that Forge World they've started building in Aesir space." I nodded at that, understanding it, and rather glad for it as I had already started considering way of skirting around these new restrictions, but I kept such things in the back of my mind as we carried on.

"Very well. Is there anything else that you wished to discuss?" I asked as he nodded once more, his face going serious as I almost feared that this was going to be a punishment of some kind.

"Tell me... What do you know of the current situation of the Fifteenth Legion?" He asked as I blinked in surprise. The truth was I had a rough idea about what was happening to them, given what he was asking me about, but I decided not to give any of my metaknowledge away, as such things were one my few advantages over the various beings in this hellhole.

"Not much. All I know is that they had one of the more positive relations with my Sons and that they were a Legion made up of significantly powerful Psykers, a lot more powerful than my own Sons, but, then again, my Sons focused more on the utility of their abilities rather than simply weaponising them as well." I stated honestly, since that _was_ what my Sons had told me when they had discussed each Legion. Adam nodded at that, looking thoughtful before leaning forwards.

"The Fifteenth Legion is currently in danger. A recent... _Mutation_ within their Gene-seed is causing them to undergo what is being called a Flesh-change that results in them, unless they have the willpower to constantly suppress it, into little more than twisted, ever-shifting mutants." He remarked. I nodded in understanding.

"You think that the knowledge I gained from Taemera might be of some use in figuring out what the hell is going on with them?" I asked, getting a nod from him.

"I need you on Terra to help fix this. I'm willing to push back your entry into the Crusade by another decade if needed, but I'm not willing to lose an entire Legion if it could have been prevented." I nodded in understanding.

"I'll come back with you, I'll bring my most skilled Sons to help as well and we can be back at Terra within minutes." Adam smiled at that, nodding in turn as he gestured for one of his Custodians to step forwards carrying a case of some description, it's exterior covered in golden decorations over an ivory white background.

"Thank you, Marcus. Also, as a last note, I was meaning to give this to you, as part of your conditions for the Treaty of Kilomiz." He stated as the case was put between us and opened, my eyes went wide as I saw the six Warrants of Trade, as stated by the agreement of the Treaty. Taking one, I took the time to read it before my eyebrow rose at the conditions of their use, which, honestly, weren't as bad as I thought they would have been.

"You're giving me dispensation to, not only keep anything found by those bearing these Warrants, but also allowing them to study, examine and experiment with Xenotech as long as it remains within the boundaries that you have set for me and the Aesir as a whole. Not only that, but you are allowing for the bearers of these Warrants to commission the Tech-Priests upon the local Forge World to make any number of technologies, even some that directly violate the Treaty of Mars, so long as they don't break this new treaty?" I asked, feeling incredulity bubbling into my tone as Adam smiled.

"Call it a gift for doing something that I've been striving towards for millennia. Well, a reward for setting the foundations for it by conducting a grand experiment to see if it would be viable in the long term would be a more adequate term, but you get the just of it." I nodded at that, placing the Warrant back down before sealing the container once more.

"I'll have these put away somewhere safe before I meet you back at the landing platform with another transport and my Sons. Assuming that we are done here?" Adam nodded, his smile growing wider.

"We are."

"Then I see no reason to waste any more time, after all, the more time we waste is less time I have to work with in order to prevent more members of the Fifteenth from... Devolving, for lack of a better word."

 **XXX**

Yes, I'm aware that this makes both the Legion and the MC look overpowered, but give it time and I'll show you the sight of the other shoe dropping. Anyway, as always, feedback is appreciated.

Also, for those interested, look up 'RIFTS NG Protege Power Armor' by ChuckWalton on Deviantart for an idea of what the starting armor of the Legion now looks like.


	12. Rocky paths

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, first, let me thank souvikkundu0017 for working to Beta this work of writing to ensure that it both made sense and wasn't filled with plot holes big enough for a Nemesis Dreadknight to jump through.

As for the previous reviews, I'll answer a few of them before we get to the story. First of all, the whole thing with the Astartes being on a sub-division of the ODIN Field is more an organisational thing than anything else. It's meant as a way of efficiently channelling information and power to and from them as quickly as possible. As for the whole 'breeding of Astartes' thing, I'll consider it, but I make no promises. Lastly, yes, it is possible to modify the ODIN Field, at least for those with control of it, or via the collective beliefs of the entire Aesir race.

Anyway, with that out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

 **XXX**

"Goddamnit!"

That was the first sound that Chief Librarian Ahzek Ahriman heard as he stepped through the doors to the lab that had been on loan to the Primarch of the Second Legion. A moment later, he had to duck and step back out of the way as a examination table that had been ripped out of the floor sailed through the air, out the door and into the corridor beyond as he stepped back into the room. Once inside, the first thing that he noticed was, obviously, the lack of the table as the place where it _had_ been showed the signs of ripped bolts and metal welds. Around the room, the Librarian could see dozens of Data-slates, dozens of papers covered in arcane symbols, more than three quarters of which, he noted, he could recognize, and dozens of chalk markings that spelled out complex equations on the walls, floor and, as he glanced upwards briefly, the ceiling.

In short, it was nothing like the last time that he had visited the room some months ago, nor was it the same as when he had visited it months before that, let alone how it was over a decade ago when it was changed from a simple storage room to the needed lab of a Primarch.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that, Librarian Ahriman, I let my emotions get the better of me." The Primarch stated as he noticed the Astartes' presence, Ahriman bowed his head slightly as he came into to the room, still feeling disrespectful towards the Primarch, but reminded himself that the Primarch had ordered it as such.

"It is no trouble, Lord Primarch." Ahriman remarked as he took a look at the Primarch. Gone was the black armor that was so common to see the Primarch of the Second Legion wearing, replaced with a simple pair of Grox-hide trousers and a white tunic, boots were wrapped around his feet while he seemed to run a hand through his short, mess of silver hair.

"Still, I apologize for the mess. I'll see about clearing it up at some point, save you lot the work." The Primarch offered with a shrug as Ahriman remained silent, knowing that the Primarch was both stubborn and determined, seemingly preferring to clean up after himself than allow the Astartes or Serfs to do it for him. Ahriman nodded in understanding.

"If you wish, Lord Primarch. Still, I have come to inform you that the Sigilite shall be here soon to transport you back to Terra." The Primarch nodded before pausing for a moment, turning to look back at the Marine of the Fifteenth Legion.

"You have something else to say...?" He inquired as Ahriman glanced to the ground, resolve steeling before nodding.

"Yes." He said before kneeling before the Primarch, directly against orders given to them almost a decade ago. "On behalf of both myself and my Brothers, we thank you for all that you have done in your search for the affliction that has cursed out Legion." The Primarch was silent for a moment, his face made of stone as he looked at the Astartes before a small smile graced his features.

"While I accept your thanks, Librarian, I would have argued that they are undeserved." The Primarch retorted with a snort of amusement, gesturing for the Legionnaire to rise. "The Flesh-change still afflicts your Legion. Even with the research notes of the Emperor himself and a dozen of his best Gene-Wrights and physicians, and their support, all I was able to do was devise ways of slowing it down and making it slightly less taxing upon you and your Brothers. The Change will still come, but, at least, it will take less of your strength to force it back." Ahriman smiled at that.

"That is still far better than our current alternative of simply waiting for it to come with gritted teeth. With the Emperor searching for our Primarch, and your work, we have much to be grateful for. Still, when we are reunited with our Primarch, we shall remember the debt owed to you and shall tell him of all that you have done for us." Ahriman affirmed as he saw the Primarch nod in turn.

Suddenly, they both heard the door open as another being stepped into the room. Ahriman turned to look at the new being before stopping where he stood.

Malcador the Sigilite was here.

 **XXX**

I had to admit, this was the first time that I had met the Sigilite in person beyond what I had heard about, or read about for that matter.

In appearance, he was exactly as I expected, looking the part of an elderly man hidden by a plain brown cloak that covered much of his body and features. In his hands, he carried a staff topped with a wing-spread eagle, firing flowing from the base of the golden figure. Still, what really caught my attention was his raw, psychic power, it was nowhere near that of the Emperor, but the gap between myself and him was surprisingly close, not only that, but his powers had been honed by years, decades, even centuries of combat, his existence within the warp tinted by his distilled experience and I knew that his skill with his power was as razor sharp as a Transonic blade.

Ahriman stood off to the side as Malcador stepped into the room, bowing slightly as the Sigilite seemed to have his gaze locked firmly on me before coming to a stop opposite myself. The silence lasted for one long instant before it was broken.

"... Hmmm... I can see why the Emperor is so interested in you, Primarch. Looking into the Warp, I can find neither hid nor hair of your existence, similar to those Untouchables that stalk the streets, and yet, I knew you are not one of them as I feel no discomfort being in your presence. Curious. Can you tell me how you created such a technique?" The Sigilite asked, I mentally shrugged, considering what was known to the wider Imperium, to the Legions and to the Sigilite before answering.

"A bad encounter with some Warp Predators that lurked around my home, I managed to banish them back to their homes, with a fair bit of damage, but I developed this technique as to not draw them to me as they had been drawn before. It was only later I learned how effective it was against other Psykers, leading to me keeping it up as, for one thing, it made for a good defense." I remarked as he nodded.

"Indeed. One cannot attack something if they cannot find it." Malcador stated with what seemed like a hint of amusement slipping into his tone before beckoning me to follow him. I did without a word as we started moving. I didn't bother going to my room since I had little doubt that all my stuff had been moved by now, my notes would remain, but that hardly mattered since I had my doubts that anyone could read half the shit I had written since it was written in sixty million year old Eldar, the modern equivalent having drifted massively from it to make the two languages completely inequitable to one another.

"... Tell me, Primarch, what have you been able to discover about the Flesh-change?" Malcador suddenly asked, catching me off-guard after a few minutes of silence. I took a moment to consider that before speaking.

"It is... Some kind of Warp-based mutation that is transmitted through sympathetic linkage from one Soul to another, effectively meaning that everyone with a similar aspect to a select individual is in danger of drawing it to them. However, the characteristics of it seem to only be targeting those of the Fifteenth Legion, making me think that the needed requirement for infection is the Gene-seed of the Fifteenth Legion." I stated simply.

"And have you been able to determine how to remove it or who cast it?" He asked as I shook my head.

"Neither, Sigilite. I've discovered many things about it, but have discovered neither of the answers to those questions. I'll admit that I managed to find the initial trigger of it being that once a member of their Legion reached a certain threshold of power that even their non-Psyker members can reach, _then_ the changes start coming. They can be suppressed through sheer willpower, but I've yet to find anything to stop the changes altogether." I stated as, once more, the Sigilite hummed in thought.

"Then what have you managed to achieve in the decade you were given to look for answers?" He asked. If I had been anyone else, I would have taken what he had said for mockery, but I had always been thick-skinned to that kind of thing, so I simply ignored it outright.

"I've managed to create a few rituals that I've already instructed the members of the Fifteenth on how to carry out. A number of which can reverse the Flesh-change to a certain point, giving them back their Human bodies, but leaving them on the cusp of a total reversion. Others are meant to ease it, allowing them to be more efficient in using their abilities to restrain the Flesh-change and allow them to focus more of their power elsewhere." I stated as we carried on, quickly reaching the hangars of the Luna-based research base that the future-Thousand Sons had been located on for the duration of my study. I saw that my stuff had already been moved, a second check showed that it was all present and hadn't been tampered with in any way, shape or form along with a few other things. I was actually surprised to see that my notes on the Flesh-change were present, but said nothing of it as I closed the distance, slowly coming to stand by my Sons, who had spent their time working and learning from the psychically more powerful Legion.

"Your notes are in your belongings, copies of them have been made and are being stored in the Imperial Palace, both for the Emperor to use along with Primarch of the Fifteenth Legion once he has been located." I nodded as I stepped into the heavily modified Stormbird, the Sigilite staying behind.

"You have done them a service, now, carry out your duty to the Imperium." The Sigilite offered before turning around and making his exit. I felt a brief flash as he teleported away after turning a corner. My lips twitched at that.

It seems that Malcador had taken tips from Batman.

 **XXX**

... Ok... It was decided...

I was _not_ leaving my Legion unsupervised for over a decade _ever_ again!

That was the first and second thought that ran through my mind as I looked at the barren desert planet I had given them as a place to test out their weapons, train their new members that had been gathered from the Aesir and innovate to their hearts' content.

That same planet was now in the middle of a nuclear winter the formerly stable tectonic plates shaking worse than a Castle made out of Jelly. Not only that, but the unstable tectonic movements were also causing volcanoes to burst into existence across the planet, erupting with lava like clockwork every few minutes. The entire planet was thawing then freezing in a near constant cycle of flash heat waves and ice waves that meant anything not adapted to the extremes would melt and/or freeze to death inside of a single cycle, which lasted anywhere from ten to thirty minutes for it to go from hot, then cold, then back to hot.

Not only that, but with the change in environments, they had decided to release a dozen strains of bacteria on to the planet to see if they could foster some new kind of life that they could _then_ harvest for genetic research and possible ideas on how to enhance themselves further. Over a decade had seen dozens of strains dying off, but a few had actually managed to survive and evolve to better survive it, modified slightly so that each iteration was getting better and better adapted for the constantly shifting weather. In orbit around the planet, there were a dozen different satellites built and designed to constantly monitor the planet and they did their jobs well, collecting data and also serving to help with the testing of the equipment of the Astartes of the Second Legion, or Jotunns as they had come to be known as by the Aesir.

Still, as I looked down at the once brown, dry, desert of a world from orbit, I honestly couldn't come up with anything as I turned back to look at Marteleus and his Brothers, their armor having been changed and upgraded since I was gone.

"I... Honestly, I have no idea whether to be annoyed or proud at what you've managed in my absence." I remarked as some of them shifted from side to side as I sighed.

"Tell me, though, what did you manage to get out of doing... _This_?" I asked as I gestured with my armor, turning back to face them. I saw them all smile.

I had the feeling that it was going to be a long day.

 **XXX**

Turns out that I was correct, but in a good way.

The Unbroken had been messing around with Ballistic weapons, Directed energy weapons, Radiation weapons, Nuclear weapons of various kinds, and Sonic-Grav weapons designed to cause maximum damage to any target hit with them, especially within a confined space. Ballistic weapons were mainly things like modified variants of Bolters and things like that, new feeding systems along with modifications to the barrel to add new effects, let alone the sheer amount of different ammunition that they had come up with. The Directed-energy weapons were things like Plasma Beams, Voklites, Proton Thrust weapons and any number of other weapons that they had taken apart and upgraded with their new knowledge, even creating some new weapons from scratch. The Radiation weapons, such as Irradiation Projectors, were meant as a tactical area-denial weapon that would be handled by heavy troopers, a way of flushing out unprotected infantry forces and killing them off before they can be a hassle, even ensuring that they would die even if they managed to escape. With the Nuclear weapons, however, they mainly focused on things like Dirty bombs, nukes encased in a layer of cobalt and wanted to perfect the design as a way of denying an enemy territory that they wouldn't need to defend, not to mention as a way of eliminating enemies within a territory. Astartes and Humanity had plenty of time, so simply irradiating a world and letting it cool off was an option.

Lastly, Sonic-Grav weapons were interesting since they worked on a dual principle, the former working to shatter something via finding the resonance frequency of it while the latter sent out pulsed waves of gravity to reduce anything it encountered to paste. The latter was already used in Aesir Hunter Mines, but this was designed to fit into a Grenade-sized system and be used on a tactical level on the ground, the Jotunns had apparently also been working on various sizes of it.

The largest of which was designed as a way of creating relatively controlled Earthquakes on demand. This, combined with the large scale use of nukes, had resulted in the current state of the planet. However, rather than stopping there, my Sons had decided to continue, using it as a place for testing their new vehicle designs as well as building a 'small' shipyard in orbit to begin refitting, or completely rebuilding, their space forces.

For ground units, it seemed that they had created two units, a tank that was bigger than a house and a walker that seemed to have been designed to be around the same size as a Knight walker. The first was a massive hover tank, almost one and a half times bigger than a Baneblade, in virtually every dimension except length, where it was twice as long as one, the thing used the same tech as a Marauder to float above the ground and had four additional turrets at the front, six on either side and another four at the back for additional weapons. The front turrets were armed with a twin-linked Multi-Melta while the side turrets were usually armored with either a Quad-lined Lascannon, Hurricane Bolter, Twin-linked Volkite Culverin or a Twin-linked Firestorm Cannon. The back turrets were usually armed with a battery of missiles mounted in a quick-reload system that allowed each of the two five by five launchers on each turret to be reloaded in seconds. However, the main turret held the main weapon, an Aesir Pattern Plasma Blastgun with two additional modes of fire over the standard one: Beam, which released two beams of burning Plasma, and Flame, which turned it into a rather long ranged flame thrower.

The entire thing was fast, well armed and had enough armor on it to stand off most small Titans, not to mention having a dual-layer Flare Shield to protect it against anything that came too close. Lastly, the thing had a transport capacity of fifty Space Marines in full armor. Meaning that I could also use these as a method of transporting my troops around that was a lot less vulnerable than a Rhino, not to mention faster. Though, I did enjoy the name they had given it after searching up the history files I had left around: The Nemesis Pattern Hover Tank.

The walker, on the other hand, looked like they had ripped the MAWLR right out of Killzone 3. It was around ten metres tall and carried all the same details, covered in thick armor and equipped with four individually aligned Ion Shields, Twin-linked Bolter and Heavy Bolter turrets with dozens of self-guided vertical launch Missile silos covering the upper body. Also, the damned thing still had the cannon mounted on the side of the thing, which turned out to be a Volkite Chieorovile, a massive Volkite weapon, the biggest of its kind, attached to the side of this thing where it would roast anything organic that was unlucky enough to be in the way. It had been tested extensively and the end results were rather plain to see.

I mean that literally since some ass decided it would be fun to carve a message into a mountain side with it, I could actually see the writing from orbit if I augmented my eyes enough. Alongside this, they had, amusingly, called this machine the Mauler Pattern Assault Walker.

As for ships...

Well...

 **XXX**

In orbit over Danger Zone, the new name of the planet that my Legion had given it...

Bunch of smartasses...

Anyway, around the planet, I saw the remains of the former ships of my Legion, most were wrecks with any useful parts having been stripped out and were currently being scavenged via repurposed Grendals and Goblins. They were stripping away layers of material to be repurposed in the massive Shipyards around the planet, small in terms of some Forge Worlds, but they were still massive constructs, tens of kilometres long and across with dozens of docks, hangars and compartments for storage.

And from these massive production facilities came the new fleet of my Legion.

They still favored having as little outside elements as possible in their fleet, and, as a result, those roles that could not be filled by an Astartes were filled by a dozen Servo-Thralls, Servitors, Servo-Skulls or any other kind of machine as to allow the Jotunns to focus on other duties. Each ship was also highly advanced, designed to require as few active crewmembers as possible while those that remained were little more than Armsmen for the ships.

Also, for some bizarre reason, every ship they had created looked like a copy of a ship I had seen in the game Star Trek Online, honestly, I didn't mind the looks, but the comparison creped me out, especially since I was pretty damned sure that they had never even heard of the game before, let alone even seen pictures of the ships. Still, a fleet had been assembled and was painted in the colours of my Legion.

The first class of ship was the Tracker-class Escort, which was based on the Faeht Intel Warbird. It was a small craft, about five hundred metres long and over 850 metres wide from wing tip to wing tip, all covered in black armor with Grav-pulse thrusters to allow it to move with no visible engines. The small ship was designed as a multi-purpose craft with extensive point defenses made primarily from rapid fire lasers and canisters that explode into a cone of shrapnel after leaving the ship. The main weapons of the craft were a series of eight turrets, each one equipped with a single Lance battery, with four on either the top or bottom of the vessel while on each of those sides, one was placed at the nose, the wing tips and the stern. All of these could be retracted at will and this would allow for better concealment at longer ranges due to the insulated hull of the ship adding to the passive stealth nature of it. However, for a further kick, the ship had a pair of prow mounted torpedo launchers that used a revolver-style system to rapidly launch a volley of four torpedoes, eight in total from both launchers, at the enemy. Reloading them was a long process, but the Alpha-strike capability was seen as being worth it. As a last note, the ship was equipped with both a Void Shield as well as what I could only call an early attempt at a Reflex Shield, mind you, for an early attempt, I was half tempted to say that it was a shit load better than the original. My Legion had taken to calling these Reflex shields as Mirage Shields, which, from my own observations, had quickly become a growing trait within the shipbuilding of the Second Legion. The Mirage Shields and Void Shields, however, still couldn't both be active at the same time, leaving a ship defenceless whilethe Mirage Shield was active, but the switch over was apparently a lot shorter than what was present on a Reflex Shield in the original timeline.

The next class of ship was the Harrier-class Cruiser, based on the Deihu Command Battlecruiser. The craft was larger, almost three kilometres long from end to end with a wing span of roughly four and a half kilometres, these ships were fast, well armed and equipped to get in, do a lot of damage and get out just as quickly as before. Of course, these ships were still perfectly able to stand and fight, it was just that most would prefer the enemy dead rather than allowing such a thing to happen. For that reason the ship was _very_ well armed, almost on par with an Imperial Battleship. The ventral and dorsal sides of the main body were dotted with Twin-linked Lance turrets along with the pontoons on each wing, both the dorsal and ventral sides carried the same number of turrets, numbering at twenty turrets with five on each pontoon and ten on the main body.

An extensive point defense network covered the entire ship from prow to stern with dozens of Laser-based weapons, interception missiles and shrapnel canister launchers, not only that, but this ship even carried an system called a Grav-wave repulsor, designed to release an Omni-directional wave of gravity away from the ship to pulp attack craft and incoming munitions in short order. Torpedo four torpedo launchers lined the leading edge of each wing with a single pair at the stern of the main body, all equipped with a six-shot revolver system instead of four shots to increase the capability for an alpha-strike even further while also, unfortunately, increasing the reload time for the full system further as well. To finish it off, the ship had a triple layer Void Shield system along with a Mirage Shield system.

Following on from that was the Brawler-class Grand Cruiser, based on the Qib Intel Battlecruiser. This thing was an absolute beast of a ship, nine kilometres long and with a wing span of 4.9 kilometres, it was huge, heavily armored and heavily armed, so much so that I thought they had confused the designation on the damned thing for that of a Battleship, especially given the size. Regardless, this thing was an absolute monster and would utterly decimate entire fleets on its own, especially given its weapons and defenses. For weapons, it had over forty Twin-lined Lance turrets with ten on each of the wing pontoons and the rest being on the central body, five eight-shot revolver torpedo turrets along the leading edge of each wing with another four located at the stern to shoot anyone that thought it would be wise to tailgate. Along with that, the front hammerhead-like design was not just for aesthetics but also worked to conceal the two Nova Cannons built into it, each one with an elaborate feeding mechanism to ensure a quicker reload time than most Imperial ships. Along with that, the Prow of the ship was upgraded with four Plasma Beamers located on each corner, two on the dorsal side and two on the ventral side, ensuring that anything that got too close was killed quickly. The Point defense system was even stronger than the Harrier's, so much so that I doubted that anything could get within six hundred kilometres without being blown apart. Of course, to finish that off, it was equipped with a main, triple-layer Void Shield system with another redundant backup system with a quick charge system connected to both, plus a Mirage Shield, of course.

Finally, we came to the big daddy of them all: The Devastation-class Battleship, based on the Durgath Temperal Heavy Dreadnought. This thing was massive, fourteen kilometres long, seven kilometres wide and armored so heavily that I had doubts that anything short of the Planet-Killer Abaddon used during his 12th Black Crusade could even scratch it. Multiple whole tens of metres of armor covered every single angle of this damned thing, enough point defenses for ten Brawler-class Grand Cruisers, and a triple-layer Void Shield with at least three redundant backups, not to mention the Mirage Shield. For weapons, the Devastation had 120 turrets on, spread between the dorsal and ventral sides with ten on either side being split between the pontoons at the end of each wing. Each one of these turrets was armed with a Twin-linked Lancer along with a single Plasma Beamer, making them dangerous at any range while a number of secondary turrets were also present. Thirty turrets, spread across the body of both the dorsal and ventral sides and armed with a single nine-shot Torpedo Launcher along with a series of pair of Disruption Macrocannons along with another pair of Plasma Macrocannons. All of that would have made these ships fucking nightmares on their own, but my Legion couldn't help themselves and decided just to keep on going...

This, as a result, meant that each one of these ships was equipped with three Prow mounted Nova Cannons, a Grav-wave Repulsor with the strength to turn ships into nothing but chunks of scrap metal, and hangars large enough to hold at least six Tracker-class Escorts internally along with tethers that would allow it to carry another two Harriers with it through the Warp on its hull. Now, with larger ships, most people would think that this would slow it down, but the Devastation-class was fast for its size, faster than anything that bit had a right to be, resulting in his serving two purposes: One, to speed up the movements of fleet elements that are required elsewhere; Two, to ensure that the Devastation-class always had an escort fleet with it.

In the decade I had been gone, my Sons had built three Devastations, twelve Brawlers, forty Harriers and two hundred Trackers...

... I just realized that I can't say 'God' since God is dead in this Hell-forsaken crap hole...

Fuck.

 **XXX**

"We have gathered all the materials that you requested of us, Lord Primarch, as stated in our agreement." Kelbor stated as we stood in the hangar of the new Flagship of my Crusade Fleet, the rechristened _Necessity_. Beyond us, a specially modulated Grav system worked to keep the atmosphere inside the ship rather than explosively being thrown out, it caused a slight shimmer as well, showing where the field was and where the Void of space began. Turning slightly to face the Magos who had quickly started to become one of my greatest allies, I smiled as I nodded.

"Indeed you have, Magos. Now, let me carry out my end of the bargain." I stated as it was easy to understand what I was saying. In return for those resources, I would provide Kelbor and his allies with a World upon which they could build a Forge World within Aesir space. Mind you, I had something a little more... _Literal_ in mind.

Reaching out with my powers, I felt the materials, hundreds of trillions of tons of raw material in various forms, floating through the void within a single, stable orbit around Yggdrasil that was all clumped together, it would have looked like a miniature copy of Junkheap back in the day if it had any Asteroids thrown into the mix. Thankfully, I didn't need to worry about the repeat of old nightmares as I focused and threw my will at the materials, infusing them with my will as I bent the natural reality of the world to my will in a colossal example of might and power.

From the ship, I knew what the Augers would be picking up: The mass of materials moving without any apparent source as they shifted into a liquid-like state before starting to expand. From my side, I heard a gasp from the gathered Tech-Priests who were watching and I could feel the awe that many of them held for what I was doing, I smiled slightly as I realized that I'd probably have gained some of my greatest and most devoted followers to date from just those that watched this event. Then again, that hardly mattered to me as I worked, molding the materials to complex patterns within my mind and making them a reality, incredible complex anti-gravity systems being emplaced to provide a stable gravitational field within the structure. Dozens of complex cogitators were built, raw, frozen cells and biomatter being used to create their organic components while pico-engineered crystal processors were rapidly constructed, connected and energized within the massive structure before more components were added.

Within hours, a moon-sized object made from dark, Black Plate was in orbit around Yggdrasil, it's outer layer being multiple kilometres thick with a gate two kilometres thick, protecting the passageway into what was actually a dyson sphere the size of Luna. The outer surface was further augmented by massive, multi-layer Void Shields that were of impossible thickness and strength, the armor augmented by dozens of self-repair systems and Klein Bottle storage systems to ensure that the armor was never broken. Alongside this, dozens of Laser defense systems, Plasma Obliterators and Neutron Lasers were stationed across the entire object as a defense against anyone that would try to attack it. Of course, I had put another feature into this object's design, as a measure of last resort.

It was mobile.

Arrayed with dozens of Gellar Fields, Psi-Jammers and powered by an artificial star that burned within the core of the structure, the entire moon-sized construct was capable of motion and was, by far, the Post-Old Night Era construct built by Human hands. Before the Old Night, Humanity _had_ built bigger stuff, entire mobile War Worlds of immense power and destructive capability, but those had all been destroyed during the Iron War at one point or another. Silently, as I finished the last pieces of the construct, I laminated the loss of such marvelous machines.

As I finished, the glow of power disappeared from my eyes as I turned to the Magos and the gathered Tech-Priests, who had stood in shocked silence since the beginning. I smiled, externally, I looked fine, internally, however, I was exhausted, still, it helped that I had tapped into the ODIN Field in order to make it work out, still didn't help me after channeling so much power though. Even for me, that kind of display was insane and something I had never done before, but felt that the showmanship alone would do more than I could have hoped for the alliance I planned to built between myself and this faction of the Mechanicus. Holding out a hand, I flared my powers once more, causing a single object to form rapidly before dropping into the palm of my hand, looking like the Janus Key from Halo.

"Consider this my end of the bargain complete, Fabricator-Genera." I stated as I took a step forwards and held the Key out to him. "This is the Key to Autochthonia, consider it your mark of office, Fabricator-General Kelbor-Hal."

Kelbor seemed to move jitteringly, his entire head shifting from me to the key then back again more than a dozen times before he took shaking steps towards me and took the key from me with equally shaking Mechadendrites before he backed away rather quickly on unstable feet, his optics half going to the device as he held it with what I could interpret as reverent awe. After a moment, he bowed deeply to me, his form still hidden under his cloak as the Key disappeared into its folds while the rest of the Tech-Priests soon followed as I locked my knees in place to keep from falling over and ruining this event.

"We thank you for your generosity and swear that it shall _not_ go to waste... Lord Primarch." He spoke hesitantly, as though unsure about my title. I simply nodded while smirking victoriously in the back of my mind.

The base had been set.

 **XXX**

"Shoot that thing, damnit!" I shouted as I hefted the Heavy Plasma Cannon mounted under my arm and held it steady with my other hand. Pulling the trigger was easy as I watched the beam of energy leap out of the barrel and cross the distance between myself and my target in a moment. The target resisted for all of a moment before finally succumbing to the incredible forces arrayed against it, some kind of hybrid of flesh and bark giving way as it was fried, melted and burnt to dust before finally being allowed to disappear as a burnt hole appeared in my target.

 _ **AAAAAARRRRHHHHHAAAA!**_

Unfortunately, a single shot from a weapon that could have slaughtered a Leman Russ Main Battle Tank in one shot was not enough to kill these abominable things. Follow up shots from other Unbroken nearby targeted the central mass, the top of the body and the joints between the main limbs of the advancing creatures, killing some of them, but others continued further, screaming unholy sounds even though the damned things lacked a mouth to speak of. Some of them managed to reach the front entrenchment of Unbroken, long, thin limbs ripping through the air before they could react as many of the suddenly found themselves either lacking their upper bodies or heads.

I felt anger at that, the Xenos were killing my Sons and I was planning to have _none_ of that. Above the battlefield, Javelin Attack Speeders streaked over head, heavily modified and armed with Plasma-warheads and a Multi-Melta, they worked well to deal damage to the Xenos as we pushed forwards. Glancing around, I saw the beam of red thermodynamic death soar through the battlefield from a Mauler and smiled happily as it was swept through many Xenos and killed them outright, follow-up missile salvos killed even more as we advanced on our objective.

"Lord Marcus." I turned at the sound of my name, seeing Marteleus standing by me, his spear on his back as each arm held a modified Multi-Melta and each shoulder held a Volkite weapon of some description.

"Report." I ordered simply, already getting up and moving, my powers reacting to my subconscious as the Heavy Plasma Cannon disappeared, replaced with a Volkite weapon that should have been on a tank as it locked on to my forearm, extending towards the ground and almost reaching my ankle as I could aim and fire it with one hand.

"We have identified another Warp Gate used by the Xenos roughly five kilometres north of this position. Assault teams are being gathered and shall soon be ready to destroy the Xenos filth." I nodded at that. Two months on this planet was a hellish experience. The massive jungle favoring the enemy as their half-plant nature made it easy for them to blend into the surroundings, not to mention the fact that they were even harder to find in the small swamps that dotted the area. Honestly, there was only one reason that I hadn't simply ordered the planet burned with a Cyclonic Torpedo and that was because of the Dark Age-era ruins that doted the planet, each one being assaulted, barricaded and secured by my Sons while we swept the planet for Warp Gates.

The Xenos race on this planet was strange, massive, seven metre tall creatures with a main body like a stick insect that stood on three, four-jointed legs that ended with a triangulate base of spread toes, each one being as long as an Astartes was tall. Three metres of the body hung below the 'waist' where the legs joined the body, but still hung over two metres above the ground, over a metre thick at some parts with ridges similar to bamboo. Three metres above the waist, the creatures had a set of three arms positioned around the body in a similar fashion to the legs, each arm having no less than six joints in it with a reach of over eight metres and tipped with three-fingered hands with fingers that made up two of those metres. Above the 'shoulders' was the 'head', a wriggling mass of tendrils that, somehow, was used to make god-awful noises and was used to feed the Xenos, the tendrils could pierce Power Armor, but they had quickly discovered that the taste of a Jotunn could kill them. Instead, they had chosen to simply kill my Sons with swipes of their claws, which were sharp enough to rip Power Armor open and coated in baneful energies that almost disregarded their Shields, only stopping for a second before ripping right through them.

Two decades after meeting my Legion, the Unbroken had grown to number at almost sixty thousand.

Two months on this planet, and that number had been cut down to fifty thousand.

"Don't bother." I remarked. "Have the fleet bombard it from orbit, I have seen enough of my Sons die on this planet to the claws of those Xenos." Marteleus bowed deeply as he nodded.

"As you command, Lord Macrus!" He said before rushing off. I paid him little mind as I sighed to myself, glancing around as the sounds of the emplacements further ahead of me continued to sound with the hiss of Plasma, Laser and Volkite weapons, a sign that more of the Xenos were assaulting the breach head to try and take back the land that had been consumed by the forest of this alien planet. Turning to another Jotunn, I spoke commandingly.

"Are the Sanitizers in place?" I asked, considering the devices once more. They were basically scaled up Rad-Grenades, built to flash-fry any organic matter, including plant matter, within their area of effect that wasn't properly protected. The plant life on this planet took poorly to radiation, Irradiation Projectors and Rad-Grenades having become rather wide spread during the last two months while a dozen other ideas having sprung up, including an interesting version of Bolt Ammunition that looked like a precursor to Radium weapons.

Of course, if the plants disliked it, then the Xenos hated the stuff. Exposure to it turned cancerous to them inside of seconds, their forms growing horribly disfigured from internal and external tumors within moments before they finally died a slow, agonizing death.

Just as it should have been.

"Primed and ready, Lord Primarch. The other breach heads have reported that the devices have been primed in their locations as well, they merely await your command." The Astartes, a Battle-Forger, replied as I nodded.

"Tell them to activate the Sanitizers whenever they feel they are ready. I want the Ruins cleared and the surrounding area of each breach head purged of all plant life for fifty kilometres in every direction. No exceptions. Also, pass out the orders that I want Rad-weapons to become the order of the day. I want this planet purged by the end of the week, we have our prizes, anything else is of little concern; good to have, but not worth fighting to keep." I stated simply as this one bowed once more.

As I was left alone, upon the remains of a hill that now was over looked by a pair of Maulers, I glanced up to the stars and considered many things, but a single thing slipped from my lips.

"... I can't wait to get off this hell hole..."

 **XXX**

"Is that damned thing shutdown?" I asked as I looked around with caution, the area had been blasted down to bedrock, repeatedly, with Sanitizer strikes dropped from modified Stormbirds, each one capable of carrying twelve of the massive Rad-bombs. Looking around, I saw the weapons of those around me, Heavy Bolters armed with either Radium materials in place of depleted Uranium within their standard Bolt shells, or with a variant that was incendiary in nature, releasing gouts of Balefire into a target after penetrating the armored hide of the Xenos. More than a few carried Heavy Volkite weapons while I saw a few more wearing modified Dreadnoughts, having turned them into battlesuits that were worn over their power armor, mostly just modified Contemptors mounting Twin-linked Heavy Bolters armed with the Proto-Radium Bolts that had become so common during this. Around the area, I could also see six Maulers and a dozen Nemesis tanks, all with their weapons constantly searching for threats.

"No, Lord Primarch." I nodded at that as one of my Sharpened Shields responded.

"Good. Then begin a full investigation. I want those gateways probed and I want to know just how far we will have to travel to remove these Xenos from existence." I hissed with great venom, my Legion agreed as those around me got to work quickly as they moved towards the object of interest.

It was one of the Xenos Warp Gates.

The structure was massive, one of the biggest ones yet uncovered. It was comprised of three massive pillars, each carved to look like triangular prisms and covered with carved symbols that made one's head hurt from simply looking at them. Each one had a single edge facing inwards, where dozens of colours danced along the edge before being discharged into a rent in the fabric of reality that glowed a soft green, the stabilized Warp tear that made this Warp Gate. My Legion had already encountered dozens of them, having learned how to destroy them through heavy application of firepower while also learning how they were opened.

A Blood sacrifice of some kind of fruit-like creature that shared a similar nature to these plant-Xenos, each of which was basically a massive sphere covered in bark and with no limbs to speak of. A single tree could hold as many as a few hundred of these creatures and they grew rapidly to what was considered the point of maturation. A few dozen samples had been taken, along with what were deemed as nursery trees, for future study, along with seeing if they could be put to use in some way, currently, they were locked in stasis Vaults hidden within the super-structure of the _Necessity_. Still, what I wanted to know was how vast the network of these Gates were, I had seen them cover the planet, Servo-Skull Probes had been used to discover these many Gates and destroy them along with purging any of the Xenos we had discovered, but we had also discovered, quite by accident, that these things were also interplanetary in nature.

It had not been a fun discovery.

Looking around, I saw a dozen of my Sons gather near the rift, using their combined Psychic might to force the portal open, stretching it out as they looked to see if they could find the other planets as Servo-Skulls and Servo-Thralls were prepared with QEC devices, Irradiation Projectors and Rad-Grenades.

I would love nothing more than seeing these damned things burn."

 **XXX**

Alpha-34-16-Omega, renamed as Plant-Food was now dead.

I smiled as I looked down at the now rapidly expanding field of debris that had, at one point, been the planet itself. The remains of the Dark Age ruins had been literally ripped from the soil of the planet before transported back to the ship, where they were being painstakingly studied before a Sonic-Grav weapon called a Tectonic Cracker had been deployed. The weapon literally shook the planet to pieces, much to the vindictive joy of my Legion.

I sighed as I watched the field of rubble expand, any piece that came too close was destroyed by Lance strikes. Five years into the Crusade, 1387 planets that were either empty or only held Feudal Human civilisations before I had left the Gothic Sector and ran into Thamal Sector. Of course, before I had left, I had ensured that the six Blackstone Fortresses were pocketed away within hidden Vaults within the Midgard system after checking through a dozen systems that were either dead or held Xenos civilisations that were too weak to even bother with. I also removed Eye of Night and Hand of Darkness from their resting Places.

However, three systems into the Thamal Sector and I ran into _this_ bullshit...

Unless the next planet had anything of worth on it, and if it was infested with more of these fuckers, I fully planned to just launch a Two-stage Cyclonic Torpedo at the fuckers and let them burn. Even then, I was hesitant to even consider not firing the damned things for that. Admittedly, that was mostly due to the fact that I had lost nearly fifteen thousand of my Sons to that Death World, still, at the very least, my Legion had gained much from this fight.

The new innovations in Rad and Radium weapons were bound to be useful in the future, as were the new shielding systems that were starting to be incorporated into the armors of the surviving members of the Legion. Not only that, but modifications were also being made to other weapons, new heatsinks and capacitors had been developed for our energy weapons, reducing the cooldown time between blasts and allowing for a slight increase in the potency of each shot. A new line of Bolt shells had also been introduced, various incendiary payloads mixed with area-denial and Radium warheads that would be just as effective, if not more so, on normal creatures as they were on these Xenos, nicknamed as Tree Fuckers. Also, a number of Automata were also starting to be upgraded as well and were starting to be introduced in larger numbers to act as forward guards and shock troopers. Currently, the favorites for these duties were Thanatars, Castellaxes, Kastelans and Voraxes due to their designs and abilities.

Suddenly, however, I was brought out of my musings as I heard a phantom sound ringing through my head, a notification that something had happened. I felt my eyes widen as I read it.

Horus had arrived, and he had brought a guest.

 **XXX**

Horus smiled as he walked out of the landed Thunderhawk as he looked around the hangar of the new ships built by his Brother's Legion. The smooth shapes and sharp angles contrasted heavily with the standard of Imperial ship building, lacking the ornamentation of most Imperial ships and being rather... Plain by comparison, but it seemed to suit the utilitarian style of the Second Legion, favoring pragmatism above everything else, even decoration. Looking around the Hangar, Horus saw a dozen members of the Unbroken wondering around, wearing new suits of power armor created by their Legion and seemingly working at a dozen things, Storm Eagles, Thunderhawks and Fire Raptors scattered around and being maintained by the skilled hands of the Legion.

"I must admit, for a Legion with such an unusual reputation, I had imagined that they would have decorated their ships with graceless junk. However, I find that these designs have a certain... Beauty to them in their simplicity." Came the cultured voice from beside him as he turned to see his newest Brother standing beside him, Fulgrim. However, before Horus could answer, he was cut off by the sound of a rather familiar voice as a pair of door slide open.

"That's because we are, at our core, pragmatic and utilitarian about our stuff, but just because we like to make things as simple as possible does not mean that it has to look dull while it does its work." Came the voice of none other than Marcus Grimm himself, Lord of the Second Legion and the being that many were coming to call the Lord of Escalation. He walked into the room with his ever present half smirk plastered across his face, his eyes dancing with hidden truths that Horus could not even begin to guess while his body was clad in his preferred Power Armor. To his Transhuman eyes, it looked the same as it had over 25 years ago, however, the Primarch of the Luna Wolves had little doubt that improvements had been made since the last time he had seen it, Marcus rarely left his belongings the same for too long, usually upgrading them every few months. Marcus looked around once before raising an eyebrow.

"I take it this is one of our Brothers, Horus? Otherwise, I have to admit that this is, quite possibly, the most pleasant looking Ogryn I have ever seen in my life." That remark got a snort from Horus that turned into a rumbling chuckle while Fulgrim smirked slightly at that, seemingly just happy to have his perfection of form complimented, even if it was in a slightly backhanded manner as to be compared with a crude Ogryn.

"I am indeed." Fulgrim bowed slightly in greetings. "Fulgrim, Primarch of the Third Legion, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Marcus Grimm, Primarch of the Second Legion. Welcome to the family, though, with introductions out of the way, you two want to follow me to my private dining hall? I've got some good quality Aesir Ale in stock and I'm sure you two wouldn't mind a good meal before you go." Marcus remarked as Horus smiled and nodded, Fulgrim simply nodded, following Horus's lead since he was still getting to know his new Brother. Without another word, Marcus turned with a smile, gesturing for them to follow as they walked onwards, following the constantly twisting corridors of the ship as they walked around corners and saw the dozens of other Astartes walking through the corridors before stepping into the private dining hall of Marcus himself.

Looking around, it was a large room, richly decorated with walls of silver decorated with gold trim and lines of Aesir Runes spelling out complex chains that could have meant any number of things while the room was bathed in light from no obvious source. Around the room, there were a dozen paintings of various descriptions dotting the area, Horus couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that as he saw his Brother pour a drink for each of them.

"Aesir Ale, Alpha Grade stuff, a single drop of this will kill a normal Human and even Astartes have to be careful of it, otherwise they'll end up knocked out on the floor faster than you could saw 'Emperor'." Marcus said as he offered each of them a drink, Fulgrim only absently accepted one such drink as his eyes remained looked on one painting in particular, a portrait of a woman in her twenties with a country background of a primitive world behind her. Horus sniffed the drink briefly, testing it to see if he could smell anything off about it, glancing over to see his Brother smirking at him, he took a sip.

Horus immediately felt his eyes shoot wide at the taste and potency of the drink, he almost gasped out in surprise before forcing the feeling down and swallowing the liquid as he looked over at his smug Brother, who happily drank his own Ale with no unease to be seen. Horus glared at him for that, only getting a smug smirk in return for his troubles before Fulgrim spoke for the first time since entering the room, his attention focused entirely on a single painting on one wall.

"This painting? What is it, Brother?" He asked as he turned to his fellow Silverette. Marcus turned to him with a slightly interested look as he glanced at the painting in question before a look of comprehension crossed his features.

"Ah, that is a reproduction of an ancient painting called the Mona Lisa, the original was painted sometime in the... 16th century, if I remember correctly, by an artist called Leonardo Da Vinci." Marcus casually stated, drawing the attention of both of his Brothers.

"You have such detailed records as to know of specific art works before the Golden Age of Mankind?" Horus asked, shocked and surprised as he wondered if his Brother would ever run out of surprises while Fulgrim looked flabbergasted, but for completely different reasons.

"A reproduction!? But the subtle colours! The gentle lines! It is magnificent!" He turned towards Marcus with a determined gaze. "Tell me, Brother, who made this painting? And would it be possible to have them make another one, possibly as good as the original if this reproduction is so brilliant?" Marcus smirked at that.

"I'll have the next one sent to you when I have some free time." The Primarch of the Second Legion remarked, announcing himself as the artist, much to the shock of Horus, and the surprise of Fulgrim. Horus, once he got over his shock, simply chuckled at that.

"Why am I even surprised anymore? Honestly, Brother, I keep wondering if you will ever run out of surprises and yet you keep showing off more and more talents." Marcus merely shrugged at that.

"It's more a case of just having had a lot of time to practice in my free time. I've had two centuries to get better at these kinds of things, so it is rather understandable that my works have improved as I've gotten more experienced." He remarked as he gestured around the room. "All the paintings in this room were done by me at some point or another, most of them were just something I did to capture a specific moment or because it drew a certain emotion, most were either done at the moment or from memory."

Horus took that time to glance around, taking in the beauty that he saw. Most of the other pictures were landscapes, either depicting battles or of great skylines, at least two of which he recognized: One showed a beautiful skyline that one would have seen from the summit of the Imperial Palace, the clouds breaching to allow a ray of light down with birds flying in from one side, creating a view that many would call angelic. The other was an image from Kilomiz, a record of the disastrous battle where three Great Companies of Space Wolves had been slaughtered, called the Blunder of the Wolves. Looking at the paintings, he could admit that his Brother had an attention to detail that few could match, even going to extreme lengths to ensure the realism of his paintings down to the very last brush stroke.

"Perhaps, Marcus, you should make a few and give them to Father. I'm sure that he could find somewhere in the Galleries to place them."

Marcus grinned at that as he quietly sipped his drink. Horus, wisely, said no more, recognising the look on his face as one of his 'I know something you don't know' faces and said "I already sent him a reproduction, one of Isandula Verona's best works." Fulgrim said nothing after that reply, gently nursing his drink as his gaze was lost in the beauty of each painting.

 **XXX**

The visit from Horus and Fulgrim lasted a week, where upon I was commissioned by Fulgrim to paint him a dozen reproductions of ancient Terra artworks along with a few dozen other things once he discovered that I was also gifted with other forms of art. Horus found it amusing to see, I honestly just saw it as another way of improving my skills since the steady hands needed to sculpt or paint would also help improve my aim with a weapon. Still, that minor distraction helped me pull myself away from the fact that I had lost so many of my Sons to that one world, something I made a note to be careful of in the future, especially since I had a gut feeling that that was not the full extent of what the Tree Fuckers were capable of.

"What is the status of the Fleet?" I asked as I walked into the CIC of the _Necessity_.

"Currently, all vessels are reporting all systems are working as required. The _Mother of Invention_ has reported that the Ruins have been secured in their tertiary hold and they will be leaving the system within five hours to return to Autochthonia to drop it off with the Mechanicus present on that world. We've also received reports that the first Spheres have been completed and are ready for deployment along our Crusade path, they merely await the _Mother of Invention_ to guide them into place." I nodded at that. The Spheres were an idea I had for a mobile system of fleet bases, each one being roughly two hundred kilometres in diametre and being based on the Spheres from Star Trek Enterprise. Each Sphere was built to resupply a dozen ships at once, along with a fleet of their own ships that would act as a last line of defense that would be aided by the impressive defenses of the stations themselves. Then again, I had my doubts that such things would be needed since they were all equipped with the largest Mirage Shields that had ever been built, able to hide them from anything that might seek them out.

"Good. Now, bring up the star charts of the mapped systems, I want to see what worlds the Tree Fuckers are inhabiting. Cross reference them with the Map of Solomon." I ordered as I saw a table rise from the middle of the CIC, from it came a massive array of holographic projections of the surrounding space, detailing dozens of systems, planets and stars. Slowly, secondary images appeared beside the original images as green links formed between some of the planets as those same planets were highlighted in green as well, showing which worlds might be homes to the Tree Fuckers. Looking around, I saw a dozen worlds that were covered in green before the glow turned red, marking it for destruction.

"One moment, Lord Primarch, we are making the adjustments to account for stellar drift as we speak." I merely nodded as I saw the second image line up with the first, slowly overlapping until they were on top of one another. Slowly, dozens of the worlds they controlled turned red, denoting their need for destruction while two other worlds were marked with flashing orange: A mark showing that the planet was host to something from the Dark Ages.

"Report!" I ordered as the two planets were zoomed in on.

"Positive response from the Map of Solomon, my Lord. Planets Sigma-94-65-Beta and Zeta-03-81-Gamma show positive for Human habitation in the Dark Age era. Sigma-94-65-Beta was a research base of some kind, abandoned during the Iron War and what little within the Map of Solomon indicates that it was looking into some form of Terraforming technologies, the facility on Plant Food was apparently a sub-facility belonging to this main base. Zeta-03-81-Beta, however... It appears to have been some kind of small-scale manufactorum designed to produce weapons and armor for elite soldiers and warriors during the time of the Iron War." I smiled at that, already seeing the possibilities, but knew it was probably going to be a tough fight.

"Send out Trackers to each of the other worlds around with Exterminatius-Grade weapons, Two-stage Cyclonic Torpedoes preferably. I want each of those worlds decimated before we launch our strikes on those two worlds." I commanded as a grin of anticipation crossed my face.

"As you command, Lord Primarch." On the holo-table, I saw a dozen ships peel off from the formation, Warp rifts forming as they disappeared towards their targets, their goals simple and their intent clear. Still, even with what I knew, what my Legion knew, I also had a gut feeling that these were not going to be easy battles.

 **XXX**

Turns out, I was correct, on more than one count.

With only two worlds remaining, the Tree Fuckers fought with even greater hatred, screaming unholy sounds at us as they moved to war. Their warriors, no longer bare, wore armor covered in blasphemous symbols and made from the corpses of their fallen, empowered through Blood sacrifice and strengthened through Fel Warp sorcery. Their claws were augmented with gauntlets that focused the baneful energies of the Warp, enhancing their reach and forming into swords of a dozen colours, whips and blasts of Warp fire that ignored most forms of defense. Rad and Radium weapons were less effective against these corpse-clad warriors, they stocked forwards, taking triple the amount of firepower to kill them, the heavy weapons of vehicles like the main gun of the Nemesis or Mauler were still able to hurt them, but it took multiple blasts to ensure that they remained dead and didn't heal, as the baneful powers of the armor drained themselves to heal the wearers.

New weapons needed to be built to take these suits of Warp-armor into consideration, new bullets capable of piercing these suits of armor were created, their warheads containing Radium-laced explosives with irradiated Adamantium micro-shrapnel further laced into them. There rocket motors were more potent, capable of breaching their armored hides and exploding with terrible fury, cancerous growths appearing moments later and causing many of them to die, unable to live even with the life-giving properties of the armor they wore. Later, as we pushed deeper, Warriors wore thicker still armor, engraved with runes of Fel magics and increasing their bulk until they stood at nearly twice their original height, these ones were the real issue on both of the worlds, marching out at the head of armies of their lesser kin from hollowed out trees that they had turned into towering cities that almost broke through the magnetosphere. In their hands, each one of these warriors carried war-beasts, specially breed and grown from their planet and designed for war.

Each one of these creatures launched massive barrages of Warp-infused creatures, exploding upon contact and detonating in a similar fashion to a Vortex Warhead. These weapons reaped a deadly harvest upon my Legion, accounting for over two thousand dead even with all the weapons and upgrades that had been made.

As we were starting to be pushed back, more new weapons came from my Legion. A new Bolter design that removed the kicker charge, instead using a combination of a miniature Accelerator Cannon and a Helical Railgun system to launch these Bolts. The new system worked wonders as the upgrade was made to every vehicle in the Unbroken even as we bombarded them with Legion Basilisks firing Rad Warheads and air-bursting Radium warheads, their payloads of Radium needles tipped with Adamantium to ensure penetration and maximum damage was dealt. Fellblades worked to take down spearheads and rip through the lesser warriors who only relied upon their bark-skin for protection, being burned from within by Armor Piercing Incendiary weapons that exploded in gouts of Balefire. Glaives acted in support, usually to cut down the weaker ones with sweeping acts of Volkite fire that burned through them, taking advantage of the fact that wood and plant matter were pure insulators of heat to burn them alive.

As we advanced, we took more and more advantage of our ability to adapt. Psychic Wards started to become common, not aimed at the Daemonic, but aimed at the Fel Magics of the Tree Fuckers, capable of dissipating their attacks, if only partially. The power armor of my Legion was also upgraded, self-repair systems changed to a more organic design, replacing the original raw materials inserts with a circulatory system of oil and powdered feed stock that the nanites would use to increase the speed of repairs. The results were little more than patch jobs, but they would hold during combat as any weapon capable of penetrating the patches was probably capable of simply shooting through the armor anyway. Not only that, but those of the more Psychically talented among my Legion had started to make use of their talents, using their powers to erect barriers, cause the roots of nearby trees to impale the Tree Fuckers and shift the Earth under the feet of their enemies. With their introduction, the two worlds that we fought on literally turned against their inhabitants, who seemed to lack any form of Psyker talent beyond their Blood Arts, as my Legion had taken to calling it.

Within days, we had a breach head on each world, within a week, we had conquered a quarter of both, within three weeks, Sigma-94-65-Beta, renamed as Fertilizer, had fallen to us, the last of the Tree Fuckers retreating to their, what we believed to be, homeworld while the rest of them died in droves. Within six weeks, we had them pushed back to their last city as we claimed the prizes we had come for, teams having been dispatched to secure those bounties and bring them, quietly, to me for further investigation.

Within two months, the worlds were both bare, lifeless rocks, repeated Sanitizer strikes and orbital Lance fire having turned the lush, jungle planets into irradiated hell holes that not even bacteria that hadn't evolved to withstand it could have survived. We left the worlds easily enough, leaving a few Spheres behind after dropping such gene-engineered bacteria behind, for the purpose of continued advancement and investigation, of course.

Still, many of my Legion celebrated their victory, I let them. It was a big thing for them, their first, proper, campaign with me at their helm, they reveled in the feeling of their victory as they celebrated with Aesir Ale and food that had been prepared for them, shipped especially from Aesir for this victory. I had ordered a moment of silence, however, at the beginning of the feast, to honor the fallen and make an Oath to do them proud, shared by all those within the hall, all 37,000 of them that had survived the campaign as shipments of fresh Jotunns were coming to bolster the ranks.

Regardless, morale was high and the men were in good spirit, they called this one of their greatest victories to date.

I called it a start.

 **XXX**

AN: Well, there you have it! The Great Crusade begins and things have already turned interesting. I'll admit that I mucked up with the timing and dates before I decided to alter the dates that the Primarchs were rediscovered at, hence why we have Fulgrim before Ferrus. Also, for those interested, the Nemesis Hover Tank looks like the 'P55M8 Plasmyr Tank' by Duskie-06 on Deviantart.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, feedback is apprecitated.


	13. Survive Adapt Evolve

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, so, I might have gotten carried away a bit with this chapter since it's a bit longer than most of my other chapter, but I figured you lot would enjoy that. Anyway, a few of you asked questions during the last chapter but I'm not going to be answering them, for fear of giving away spoilers of either this chapter or future chapters. However, I will say that Aesir can be made into Astartes/Jotunns since such a thing was implied during one of the conversations between Marcus and the Emperor/Adam.

Also, I'd like to thank souvikkundu0017 for betaing this to make sure that it wasn't filled with plot holes and other mistakes. Seriously, give this man a round of applause and a chocolate cake.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

 **XXX**

"I hate coming back here."

Those were the words of Tig'ra as she looked out of her room, through the balcony towards the city of Aesir's Triumph, the capital city of Obros as of almost one and a half centuries ago. As she looked around, she couldn't help but sigh as she spotted a dozen different statues, some being of the Marcus within his armor, fighting the Xenos that were, to this day, still called the Cruel Hard Ones, while others were of her. Tig'ra's actions all those centuries ago were seen as an exemplar to the Felinid race of Obros, as such, she had quickly been elevated to saint-like levels by the inhabitants, along with their Aesir saviors.

"Then why do you come here so often?" Came the voice off to her side, a familiar voice as she turned to see the smiling form of Frida, the High Matriarch of the Aesir, her authority and influence was second only to Marcus himself, who she, along with all Aesir, held in religious awe and reverence. Frida too was looking around, her eyes glancing over the lines of buildings as well as the teaming masses that walked the streets between each building.

"Mostly so that I can stay in touch with my roots... But that gets harder and harder with every decade that passes. I doubt it'll be another five decades before I'm seen as some kind of Demi-goddess and ever step I take on the ground of this world will be considered holy in some way." Tig'ra grumbled slightly. Frida offered no sympathy, merely snorting in amusement since that was the treatment that all Aesir on this word had to endure. Sure, most of them took it with amusement, merely humoring the strange Abhumans and their cultural ways that had developed since freeing them of a Xenos occupation.

"Welcome to our world." Frida deadpanned as Tig'ra snorted since it was true. The Aesir had become something akin to Demi-gods or Gods to many of the Human civilizations that they had saved and uplifted, many saw the warrior race as divine. In the that respect, many Aesir on many worlds that they had liberated couldn't walk down a street without the Humans bending over in submission and awe, offering anything that the Aesir might want, or what the Human's believed the Aesir might want. Food, garments, finely crafted ornaments, even women offering themselves and families offering up their children as offerings that were, apparently, viewed as a great honor among such civilizations. The Aesir endured all of this with a mixture of amusement and pity aimed at the Humans, the former due to the backwards beliefs while the latter was a bit more complicated.

They pitied the Humans due to the frailty of the species; it was a crystallization of purpose among the Aesir, a result of their understanding of the purpose give to them by the Great Father. Humans were weak, thus, they needed someone to look after them, guide them and protect them until they could stand on their own. Many Aesir could not imagine such a day, while the Humans of the past had been mighty and would have stood well above the Aesir, the current era of Humans were laughing stocks compared to their ancestors. Thus, the Aesir did their duty with a mixture of amusement and pity at the plight and fragility of the Humans.

"I know, but was all of _this_ truly necessary?" Tig'ra asked, her arms spreading outwards as she gestured to the tower as a whole. Frida merely shrugged at that.

"They built it and said it was ours, we've just been using it as they believed we should." Frida stated from her seat, glancing around the place. It was a true statement, the tower they stood in had not been made by Aesir hands, rather, by the local Felinids who viewed the Aesir as gods and believed that no god should live in such a lowly place as upon the surface of a planet. The spires that were built, as a result, stood well above the rest of any structure on Obros, standing as a symbol of status and of power, of how the Aesir stood well above everyone else. Tig'ra was not exempt from that, she knew, even with the upgrades that had been given to her, that the Aesir still towered over her in many ways, the Jotunns even more so and the Great Father, Marcus, stood as an indomitable giant over them all. Tig'ra sighed at that remark, knowing that continuing the discussion was pointless, especially given that the Aesir before her was clearly right, things would only continue on the downward spiral from that point onwards.

"Yeah, I know, I just wish it wasn't so... _Decorative_!" She snarled as Frida chuckled at that. The tower had been built with the best materials that the Felinids had to provide, everything within it was the best of the best while those that served within the Towers lower levels saw it as an honor unlike any other, such positions bringing great renown to their families and to their clans.

"Your people thought it was best to be as fancy as possible, nothing but the best for the 'Exalted Aesir.'" Frida said, half in jest as Tig'ra growled at the smirking Aesir, who merely remained in her chair even though the augmented Felinid was getting ready to pounce on her as, in truth, it was merely a show. Frida stood head and shoulders above the Felinid in terms of combat potential, in a fight, the Aesir would win without competition.

It still didn't stop the truth of the matter from being so damned annoying.

 **XXX**

It was beautiful...

Autochthonia, He had called it, the name of this holy place with which they had been gifted. The newly promoted Fabricator-General could not believe his eyes as he looked around within the massive, artificial structure that had been granted to him and his gathering of companions. It was a Forge World unlike any other, a massive shell-like construct that had been made from the thoughts and will of one most blessed by the Omnissiah, His Chosen. Within the massive holy sphere, work had already begun in the construction of manufactorums, labs and any number of other things as Kelbor-Hal looked around, seeing the massive spires that shot out from the inner surface of the sphere towards the core of the construct, where a triumph of the Machine God awaited them.

A star, trapped by the arcane might and will of the Omnissiah, and ignited by the will of His Chosen. It was a tiny thing, but the yellow-orange glow burned with the same ferocity as the star which the Holy Forge World of Mars orbited, if not with more ferocity as it produced more energy every moment than most Forge Worlds seemed to within a month.

However, even as the work to establish a new Forge World within the Holy Shell World of Autochthonia continued, production was already starting through the miracles that had been bestowed upon them by His Chosen, along with being supplied to them by the Most Blessed Aesir themselves. Incredible machines controlled by those called the 'Hecatonchires', a crude name for those most blessed by His touch, with machines capable of taking any form of matter and converting it into usable materials. Already, a dozen Holy Nanoforges had been constructed and were turning everything that the Blessed Second Legion and His Chosen might have required. Dozens of suits of Power Armor, Bolters and vehicles were constructed every moment before the very eyes of Fabricator-General Kelbor and those that had gathered to him in the wake of His discovery.

Millions of Tech-Priests, dozens of Genetors, thousands of Magos, and hundreds of Artificers and Artisans; all of these individuals came with dozens of specializations and talents of their own, each bringing years of experience and talent with them. All of these individuals were hard at work, building and upgrading the surrounding structures with new designs and characteristics that were a far cry of what the mainstream Cult Mechcanicum used. Buildings were built with sharp lines and clean surfaces, a mathematician's masterpiece as the structures stabbed towards the trapped star at the centre of the Holy Shell World. Already, even after only a fifteen years, there had been changes within their gathering of like-minded individuals.

Augments had been changed, replaced with more advanced, more potent blessings as well as incorporating more subtle symbols of their faith as they changed the colour of their cloaks and hoods to match the change, shifting to either a darker crimson or black trimmed with red. Many had even taken to copying the designs of the Aesir, rebuilding themselves in much the same format as a modified version of a Hecatonchires as they learned more of their arts, aided by their own understandings of the mysteries of the Omnissiah.

It was at this point that the Fabricator-General stood, as he looked before him to see the holy form of one of the massive God-Machines built by the hands of His Chosen: The Jormungand.

Kelbor barely even moved as his optics merely locked on to the sight of the massive God-Machine, it's form held aloft by dozens of struts as it was checked repeatedly to ensure that all the components worked as they were intended to. Blessed workers and machines crawled over it, ensuring that the God-Machine was ready, should the time come to deliver the wrath of the Omnissiah upon the unworthy.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" The question caught him off guard as he turned to the speaker only to stop at who he saw. It was Lady Frida, the High Matriarch of the Aesir, the Semi-Mortal Right Hand of His Chosen. Unsure of what to do, Kelbor merely responded as he would have normally, though, with much greater respect.

"It is a sight that I will cherish to the end of my days and beyond." Kelbor replied as the Lady Frida chuckled at that.

"Then I'm sure you can imagine how they were built, given that the Great Father created them from the Flesh of Yggdrasil with a single thought, filling them with power beyond imagination." Frida remarked as Kelbor nodded, he could imagine such a thing, the construction of Autochthonia having opened his eyes to such possibilities.

"Forgive my curiosity, Lady Frida, but... Have you seen them smite the enemies of the Omnissiah before?" He asked, curious as what little information they had on such machines was limited to what the Aesir had given them and the Blunder of the Wolves, as the Battle of Kilomiz was being called, usually with much amusement among those of the Most Blessed Aesir. The Lady Frida smiled at the question as she nodded, causing all of Kelbor's sensors to hone in on her, wishing to record everything that was said.

"Many times. They were used extensively during the Purging of Despair, to remove heavily entrenched Xenos and Orks, unleashing floods of Plasma, Lasers and other weapons upon anyone that tried to pick a fight with them. On the ground, for those fighting, it was a comfort beyond measure having a Jormungand watching over us, however, if they were brought to bear, you knew that things were serious. One notable time they were deployed was near the end of the Purging; A moon was infested with Orks and it was decided that it would have been too costly just to use soldiers on the ground. Instead, the Jormungand came into play and used its Ruiner Lance on the Moon, destroying it utterly. It made from an impressive sight." Lady Frida commented at the end with a smile as Kelbor felt his optics suddenly turn back to the God-Machine in question, a renewed sense of awe bubbling up from within his mechanical hearts.

He was beginning to understand why the Omnissiah had Chosen Him, especially when he had built such Alters.

 **XXX**

Taemera smiled as she looked down at the streets of Yggdrasil from Asgard, dozens of Aesir wondering around the streets, heading for their jobs and such, all of which was little more than extensions of the extensive military that made up the Aesir. Companies were little more than various R&D divisions for the greater military while hydroponic farms were used to provide food for everyone that might want some, with surplus left over to allow for the creation of rations and supplies that would last them decades as they were kept in stasis-locked warehouses.

The Former-Eldar smiled at that kind of preparedness, a trait that they had gained from Marcus due to his own belief that it was better to be paranoid and prepared for anything than to be unprepared and being caught with your 'pants down' as he had once said. The Aesir, along with the Jotunns of the Unbroken, agreed with that bit of wisdom fully, leading to a rather interesting line of cultural development for the race as a whole.

As soon as children were capable of supporting themselves and thinking for themselves, they were put into the first of many Academies, or what were called Realms, each one of these Realms was used to teach the children what they would need to survive in this Gods-forsaken Galaxy. The first Realm lasted from four years of age all the way to eleven, the next carried on to sixteen and the last one finished at the age of twenty, with military skills being instilled all the way through the process. Learning how to use the various ranged weapons of the Aesir military was mandatory for the Realms, along with squad-level tactics and basic hand-to-hand combat, among other things. After the getting into the Second Realm, the Aesir children were allowed to specialize, if they chose to continue on to serve in the military, either becoming Light or Heavy infantry, Engineers, Medics, or any other role of dozens that were available to them. Along with that, once they got to the Second Realm, they were required to learn how to use a Close range weapon, whether that be an Axe, a Sword or a Mace, it was required that they learn and master at least one of these, along with an additional CQC style, one of dozens that had developed over the centuries. The Third Realm, however, worked as something akin to an Officer's training school, for those that had shown a talent for leading their fellow students.

For those that didn't wish to continue onwards towards the military, they could simply chose to do so at the start of the Second Realm and then go from there, choosing other topics and progressing from there, becoming Doctors, Farmers, artists or anything else for that matter. No engineers, however, since such things were under the preview of the Hecatonchires. However, anyone that _did_ become a civilian would have to undergo mandatory re-training every two years to ensure they kept their skills sharp and allowed them to serve as PDF soldiers if the need arose.

Taemera sighed in contentment, it almost reminded her of home, with the exception that, aside from the ODIN Field, very few of them even had Psychic powers. Still, as she turned back from the window of her room, she turned towards her own room itself as she walked over to an idol she had made of the last God of the Eldar that might still be able to do some good, Isha, she couldn't help but sigh once more.

"Even if I kept praying to her, it would take millennia for my power alone to even start to have a meaningful effect..." She muttered to herself as she sat down, holding the Idol in her hands, an Idol that she had made from Wraithbone with all the skill she had available to her. To Humans, the Idol would have looked flawless, but to an Eldar of her time, it would have been considered a third-rate attempt, at best. Throwing the Idol back on her bed, she sighed once more.

"... And that is _if_ any of my belief in the Goddess is even reaching her, what with the Field and all..." She muttered to herself as she went to flop on to her bed, annoyed that one of the last few relics of her time might be left for dead and what remained had changed so far that it was utterly unrecognizable. It was understandable, especially after sixty million years, but it still forced her to latch on to something for stability, old Idols or even friends, such as Marcus. With Marcus, she had latched on to both him and the culture that he had created, for the sense of familiarity it had brought her.

It still didn't make it any easier to accept that her efforts were in vain.

" **Not quite, Eldar.** " A voice suddenly filled the room as Taemera snapped to attention before spotting an intruder in her room. A heavily armored man, the armor plated in gold, and carrying a spear in his off hand, casting her mind out, she found her eyes widening as she saw the intruder within the Sea of Souls.

It felt like the Aesir, not _a_ Aesir, but all of them, with links to every Aesir with an ODIN Field implant, including herself.

" **By the command of My Lord, you have been allowed to carry out your devotion to your Gods with no difficulty. Your Faith shall go to those that you will it, and no one else, of that, I will guarantee personally.** " The being stated as Taemera finally registered what it said. Her mind working overtime as she quickly took in the implications of what she had heard before she looked at the being before her with a not too small amount of caution and interest.

"You're Odin, aren't you?" She asked, silently marveling at what the one she had bonded to had created. It was beyond impressive, beyond amazing, since it was a feat worthy of the Old Ones to have crafted a God, no matter how weak. The being nodded, merely confirming her suspicions as it carried on speaking.

" **I am, indeed, called Odin. I serve at my Lord's discretion and have been ordered to allow the energy of your worship to be channeled as you wish. That is all I was ordered to inform you of, should you ever doubt the nature of your own beliefs. Fair thee well, Eldar.** " Odin stated as he disappeared once more, his form bursting into little more than a field of green sparks, which then quickly disappeared, leaving her alone in her room, but with a smile on her face as she glanced at the Idol once more. She knew how much energy there was in Faith, she knew that Psykers generated so much more energy than a normal person and she knew that she was especially powerful. However, for Marcus, for who else could the 'Lord' have been, to specifically order the collective will of a race to merely pass on the energy of her Faith to the one it was destined for...

Her smile grew into one of beaming happiness and joy, it seemed that even after so many centuries, Marcus was still too kind to those he cared for, showing once more why she had fallen in love with him and making her fall in love with him once more. Slowly, she stood up and placed the Idol back in its resting place as she hummed in thought.

"Hmmm... I think I'll need to get Marcus something as a 'thank you', I suppose. That is a Human custom...? Yes, it is." She muttered to herself as she started gathering a few things together with her smile still plastered across her face.

"Now... Where did I put my Webway Sigils?"

 **XXX**

" _Hard to Port! All batteries: Fire!_ "

The feeling of acceleration and the inertia of each movement, even for the augmented physiques of the Unbroken, were tremendous. Then again, that mostly had to do with how the power on the _Necessity_ had been turned down on many systems, artificial gravity and life support being two of them while the inertia dampeners were working overtime to protect them against the more extreme G-forces that would have reduced them to paste as they turned the ship around. Suddenly, the entire ship vibrated with power and a deep _thump_ as the weapons on the Port side of the Devastation-Class Battleship _Necessity_ fired upon the fleet of Xenos vessels. Over 135 Melta-armed Torpedoes, 120 Lance Beams, sixty beams of Plasma and thirty blasts of magnetically contained Plasma all raced through the Void and impacted the Xenos Vessels as it thundered ahead, completely unbothered by the strike as the _Necessity_ and it's escorts turned and engaged the vessels.

In truth, the vessels they were fighting were few in number, but they made up for that by being utterly monstrous in size. Five vessels, each one being shaped roughly in ovoid, or egg-like shape, with the widest section of the vessels being almost fifteen kilometres from one side to another and almost forty kilometres long. The ends of the ships were solid masses of metal with a single massive exhaust while the fronts were strange, coming off and sprouting like a dozen blades with serrated teeth that curved slightly inwards as they moved to the front of the ships. All of this was made from the same black and dark green metals, though it was sometimes difficult to tell which parts were that dark green because it was a few shades away from being just as black.

" _Re-engage Mirage Shields! Now!_ "

Standing at the helm, Marteleus did the mental equivalent of a shout through the ODIN Field, he felt the acknowledgement coming back from the Helmsman as the Battleship disappeared a moment later from the sensors of the Xenos. It had become their tactic of choice when dealing with these monstrous ships, having already destroyed, or disabled, ten such ships, and with only another five left, one of which was just another well-aimed strike away from being dead in the water.

" _Bring us about and put us behind Narada-12. Load all Nova Cannons with Corpse-Ripper ammo, target Narada-11, 12 and 13 while we let the Brawlers deal with Naradas 14 and 15._ " Marteleus commanded as he redirected his attention to the communication system.

" _What is the status of the Lord Primarch and the Boarding teams on Narada-7?_ " He asked, curious as to what his Lord's progress as he was about to finish up the last of these Xenos and then come and assist his Lord in the cleansing of yet another prize for the Unbroken. He smiled at that, capturing Xenotech and studying it would have seen many in the Imperium branded as hereteks and killed, but the Unbroken, their allies and the Aesir could skirt around that little law with ease as they took anything of interest into themselves before discarding the rest.

For example, this race of Xenos had a number of interesting technologies that were already drawing the attention of many. Their weapons seemed to consist of some kind of Particle Beam weapon of impressive power and range, along with some kind of multi-stage Torpedo system that launched a single projectile before splitting into dozens of smaller projectiles, each one being as strong as the massive Battleship-grade Torpedoes that the _Necessity_ , and the five other Battleships in the fleet, used. The armor of this race was also impressive, Self-repairing on a level that was beyond the current abilities of the Unbroken while also being a fair bit stronger, considering that it had struggled off multiple hits from Melta-armed Torpedoes before finally giving in at certain points in the superstructure. Other parts of the armor had merely been burned through with close range Lance strikes and Plasma Beamer hits. Of course, the Shields on these beasts were also impressive, forming into concentrated, hexagonal plates rather than a bubble-like shield, Marteleus could guess that simply turning on certain sections of those Shields in response to incoming fire allowed far more energy to be concentrated within them. An impressive idea, but one that these Xenos clearly hadn't mastered considering that, even after nearly three hours, the Shields had yet to rise once more after being dropped the first time.

Along with that, their ships were slow, with poor maneuverability, partially due to the sheer bulk of the ships, but also due to only having a single Mag-vector exhaust for their engines, a poor design feature, if nothing else. Not only that, but their targeting was sub-par, at best, while their weapons had length reload times, with the Torpedoes being mounted on a spinning launch rack within the heart of the vessels many blades while the Particle beams seemed to merely have a long recharge time. Marteleus had already gotten a few other reports back from those that had boarded Narada-7, dark interiors with barely functioning Life support systems, the Xenos that inhabited these ships seemingly requiring individual life support systems that were implanted into them at birth. Not only that, but artificial Gravity was barely even present above knee height, there was no waste recycling system and almost all of the Jotunns were currently up to their ankles in what could only be described as Xenos piss and shit.

" _Preliminary reports are coming through, War-Forger. A Breach has been made and secured through the efforts of the Immortals and the Primarch, Warforged have already started setting up further arrival zones for more forces. The Lord Primarch has stated that he wishes for you to finish off the other ships as quickly as possible and reinforce him and his forces aboard Narada-7, he states, quote, 'They aren't taking kindly to getting new neighbors'_ " Came the message breezing through his mind as he nodded.

" _Reply saying that we shall end these Xenos' existence as soon as possible and join him in battle. Now, move us into position and prepare to fire on my mark... Fire!_ "

 **XXX**

"Immortals! Suppressing fire!" I shouted as I brought my own weapon to bear against the Xenos that inhabited ships that I could only describe as copies of the Narada from the Star Trek Movie. I heard no verbal response, but I didn't need one as Heavy Bolters were turned on the newest advance of hissing, screaming Xenos and a wave of Bolts were unleashed upon the stupid creatures that had continued to advance. Honestly, I would have laughed if it wasn't so pathetic; Out of the three hundred Jotunns that had joined me in boarding this ship through the use of two hundred Anivillus Pattern Dreadclaws that had flown through the gapes in the armor before it could heal, then again, something must have happened because the ship hadn't healed after the engines had been taken out.

Curious, but a thought for another time as I brought my own weapons to bear, firing at the rapidly shrinking horde with a mix of Kraken Penetrator, Nano-Shredder and Adrathic Bolts.

The effects were visible to see on the creatures as they faltered and died as parts of them were eaten by the microscopic Power Blades or utterly annihilated by warheads that functioned like a poor man's disintegrator. I was the only one using any of the last two shell type, but plenty of others were using the Kraken Penetrator Bolts, especially the Immortals that had come with me from the _Necessity_. I smiled at that as I glanced around, spotting the hundred Immortals that were within the single vast chamber we currently occupied.

The Immortals were a recent thing, a more formal classification for those equipped with Terminator-like armor that covered them from head to toe. Each one was covered in thick, box-like armor with high shoulders and two disks on either side of the head, between the shoulders and the neck while the massive shoulders lacked the iconic Pauldrons of normal Power Armor or Terminator Armor. Instead, they were flat platforms that allowed for the positioning of a turret on each shoulder, one being a Mauler Bolt Cannon of significant power while the other was a three-tube Micro-Missile Launcher, each tube containing six missiles apiece. In the hands of each of these warriors were massive Rifle-like weapons with a belt-feed coming from a massive backpack. The Rifles were massive Combine weapons, combining a Jotunn Pattern, as the constantly changing patterns of Bolters had become known as within the Unbroken, Heavy Bolter and a Meltagun; They were often called Ravager Rifles, considering the damage they did to the enemy, I thought it was a good name.

Still, their weapons were matched by the advancements in their armors, let alone the augments in their bodies. The recent capture of a Dark Age weapons facility had allowed for a rather interesting development when the facility was found, but most of the data within was corrupted beyond belief. However, what _had_ been there was rather interesting, namely, a full, complete list of augments used by the ground forces of Humanity during the Iron War. Now, the reason this was important was because the Void Marines were _far_ different to their ground side counterparts; Void Marines were built with rapid reactions and close quarter fighting in mind, they weren't, apparently, meant for slugging matches or frontline fighting.

The soldiers of the Terran Army, as it was apparently called, were built tough, strong and with more regenerative abilities than you could shake a Chainblade at. Multiple layers of Sub-dermal armor with each layer being backstopped by at least three separate Self-repair systems that were, individually, rather weak, however they were capable of regenerating entire lost limbs when working together. The entire skeleton had either been coated or replaced with some kind of allow that would absorb any impacts that wouldn't break it while bending and redirecting any force that _might_ break them. The skull was literally replaced with a shock absorbing material before being layered in Black Plate armor with even more regenerative abilities while a _second_ , cloned and cyber-augmented, brain was created in the chest cavity and was constantly being updated from the main one. Should the main one be taken out, the secondary one would take over and allow the soldier to keep on fighting, hence the name. The armor, likewise, had a dozen self-repair systems with even more Dust circulatory systems, the name given to the oil and powder feedstock that was supplied through a circulatory system analogue.

However, if that wasn't bad enough for those picking a fight with them, well...

I turned around just in time to see another horde of the fuckers coming, this time climbing down the jagged columns of metal that sprouted from muck-covered floor, hidden by a layer of liquid that I, honestly, didn't even want to know about. Looking at the creatures, I mentally wondered how they could have built this ship given their forms.

The creatures were large, easily four metres tall with hunched bodies, grey, stony hides that had lizard-like scales showing through at points. Four legs came out from their waists, each ending in a four-clawed hand-like appendage while their arms each ended with a mouth that looked like it belonged on a Venus Fly Trap. Their heads were similar, lacking any other features than their giant mouths with each mouth spouting at least three forked tongues. They were fast, their bodies tough and they had enough strength to rip through Power Armor with their saliva being corrosive enough to eat through it, I had already lost three Warforged to that, not knowing what to expect. Their hides were strong enough to deflect standard Bolt Shell, had they not come from a Jotunn Pattern Bolter, heavy ammo was still advised, if only to ensure for quick kills for maximum efficiency.

Still, that was all that I got as I blinked and looked on in time as an Immortal slammed into their frontlines, his fists crackling with energy from a built in Power Fist while the Field charge up before releasing the energy in a blast not unlike a Thunder Hammer. He slammed into the pillar, twin trails of fire behind him as he raised his Ravager Rifle and opened fire, his shots easily mowing through the Xenos while other provided support as he moved up the pillar. The lack of gravity made it easy for him as he advanced, the bodies floating out of his way as I smiled at that.

Jetpack-equipped Terminators, yeah, a great many people were about to shit their pants.

" _My Lord?_ " I suddenly heard the question come as I turned back to the wider room. Quickly, I switched to the channel through which I could communicate with Marteleus, I immediately replied.

" _Report, Marteleus._ " I ordered simply as I brought my own weapons around, already hearing yet another horde of the damned creatures running towards our position. It was easy to kill them, but damnit if they weren't fucking annoying.

" _We have managed to disable the remaining five Narada-class vessels, their sheer bulk preventing us from destroying them utterly, however, we are now free to deploy reinforcements to your position via the Teleportarium._ " I nodded at that, sending my approval.

" _Good work, Marteleus! I want reinforcements sent through as soon as possible, the rest of my Sharpened Shield to my position to clear out this ship. I want at least two thousand Warforged deployed on the other vessels to secure them, should they still be in good condition. I want these vessels under Unbroken control by the end of the day with only corpses of these Xenos remaining, preferably on the examination slabs of the Genetors and Apothacaries. Understood!?_ " I commanded sharply as I felt him standing straighter at the command.

" _As you will it, so shall it be, Lord Primarch!_ " I nodded to myself before closing the communication channel as I quickly checked my ammo supply. I still had a good few thousand rounds with me, still, if I started running low, I could just use one of the corpses around as raw material for my armors Nanoforge, a useful addition to have, and also something that the Immortals carried with them as well, preventing them from running out of ammo when faced with swarms of lesser foes.

"Alright! Everyone get ready! Reinforcements are inbound. Once they start coming through at the designated points, I want us to start pushing outwards and start securing more of this vessel!" I shouted through the Vox as I looked around at my Warforged, all of them still on alert as more of the damned creatures continued to try and flood into the room.

They really were worse than animals, for even animals would have learned not to stick their noses were they'd get whacked, repeatedly.

Suddenly, I felt it, a swell within the Warp as the scent of Ozone filled my nose, even through my armored helmet. A flash of light came from behind me and I smiled at what I saw as 25 members of my Sharpened Shield appeared within a moment, they moved to allow more to come through as they quickly checked their weapons. Most of them were carrying any number of weapons, though, most seemed to have brought weapons with a low chance of collateral damage to them. Good, no point trying to take a ship if you were just going to blow it up underneath your own feet.

Lightning Claws, Chain weapons and Power weapons seemed to be the order of the day with a mix of Flamers, though I did see a few with Melta charges, Plasma Grenades and a number of breaching charges. For more conventional weapons, most of them had Jotunn Pattern Bolters or Heavy Bolters, though I saw a mix of Volkite weapons mixed into the general randomness that was the loadout of the Unbroken Warforged, let alone those of the Sharpened Shield.

I smiled at that, however, it was always nice to keep your enemies guessing.

 **XXX**

"Marteleus! I want those charges planted _yesterday!_ " I shouted as I fired at the Xenos before me, newly hatched from massive gatherings of eggs that seemed to cover the chamber. Said chamber was large enough to hold literal millions of eggs as they were piled high on chain-like pillars, some hidden by the murky waters that came up to our ankles while others were glued to any visible surface with some kind of resin. At the centre of the room was a raised platform where a large specimen of this race of Xenos was currently holding station. It was big, almost six metres tall with thorns of dark metal probing out of the body and forming into some kind of cybernetic armor. The chest plate glowed with what looked like a power source, probably the only weak spot that I could identify as any injuries that were inflicted on to this one were healed instantly as we caught glimpses of wires pulsing with red light threaded through the flesh.

"Understood, My Lord!" He shouted back as I advanced forwards, a Triple-barreled Volkite Charger in one hand while the other hand held a Storm Shield shaped like a Tower Shield, the massive, rectangular shield working to protect me from the weapons that this Xenos Overlord had implanted into its arms. Said weapons appeared to be some kind of Gravitation Accelerator cannon, firing a kind of rapid growing, dark green crystal-like substance designed to grow around the target and immobilize them, it would stop growing after thirty seconds, by which point it would have encased both legs of an Astartes in a substance as hard as Adamantium. The Power Fields of my Storm Shield worked to protect me from such things, but the Crystals were also being used from crowd control, being fired and allowed to grow like gagged obelisks from the ground.

At the very least, it gave my Unbroken more cover to work with, not to mention giving the newly hatched Xenos less pathways to reach them. Peeking out from under my Shield, I snapped off three shots from my Volkite Charger, hitting the arm and head of the creature, a distraction to force it to heal. It did so quickly as it hissed at me, saliva hissing to the ground, burning through the metal below it as I advanced further, a Power blade extending from my forearm as I kept moving up, my Unbroken behind me as I quickly reached the creature and slammed into it. The Power Field of my Shield impacted the creature, grinding away flesh and metal as I ripped the Shield away before stabbing it straight through the chest, impaling the power source as I watched what happened. The regeneration stuttered for a moment before failing altogether, the regenerative wires losing their light before I watched the body hit the ground.

"Lord Marcus! The Incineration Charges have been set!" I heard through the Vox as I smiled, absently firing more blasts of red, thermodynamic death at the hatchlings as I nodded.

"Then we are done within the chamber! Pull out in a staggered, fighting retreat! Bring this corpse with us as I wish to study its secrets at a later date!" I ordered as I saw a few Immortals grabbing the newly created corpse, lifting it between them as they dragged it from the chamber as we slowly made for the exit. As we left, I saw two members of my Sharpened Shield step forwards, Tower Shields of their own extending to block the large doorway as I heard the Hatchlings trying to get through only to be ripped to pieces by the Power Fields. I smiled at that as Marteleus looked to me.

"The detonator, My Lord." He said as he sent me the required Vox frequency as I smiled before sending the activation signal. A moment later, the room before us was ignited by a low-powered Fusion device that incinerated everything within, a wave of fire lurching through the room as I heard the sound of eggs popping from the heat even as the same wall of fire tried to make it passed the Shields of the Immortals. Extendable sections of metal came out from the barriers, sealing the doorway as they increased the power of their Shields enough to protect us from the danger before us.

"Well done, my Sons, we are now one step closer to securing this vessel in the name of the Unbroken." I stated as I saw them stand proud, with backs straight. It was the truth since this was the third such egg chamber we had cleared out. Reinforcements from the Xenos was getting slower in their response times while we moved to take more and more of the ship. Recon units had already started moving deeper into the vessels, mainly Vorax machines, but they were working well to thin the herd, as it were, as they sent back locations and images of the chambers. Sure, some of the machines died, but the FOBs that were being set up were filled with the damned things, racks and racks of which were being teleported over and dropped off to ensure that we always had a good supply.

We couldn't drown the damned Xenos in robots, but we could get pretty damned close to it.

A Thought-command later and I was looking at a detailed map of the sections of the ship around us, detailing a number of things including the Transponders of the Unbroken around me, highlighted in green as I noted a few red dots, denoting the position of those that had died so far. As such, I was rather surprised to see so few had died upon this ship, only twelve out of the original 2,200 that had been on the ship after I had brought my Sharpened Shield across. Reports from other ships varied, with some having more casualties while others had less, but it seemed to be a matter of who had picked the ship that was carrying the heavy infantry.

Still, with casualties only in the double digits across all fifteen ships, I had to admit that things were going incredibly well. Lifting up my gun, I turned back to my gathered Sons.

"Come, my Sons! We have a ship to take!" I commanded as they roared their agreement with me, Immortals taking them lead as the Warforged closed ranks around me, weapons at the ready.

 **XXX**

"-As you can see, Lord Primarch, the specimens that you recovered are, for lack of a better word, infested with some truly impressive and terrifying nanotechnology." Spoke the Chief Apothecary of the _Necessity_ , Lyvon Barrus, as he gestured to the opened corpses of the Xenos Overlords that had been recovered, holes in their chests being the recognizable as being one of the favored methods of setting them up for death. Throughout the massive cargo holds of the _Necessity_ , dozens of Apothacaries and Warforged were looking over the hauls of Xenotech as the ships were having massive tethers attached, to be taken back to Yggdrasil and placed in massive vaults located near the Tempest Galleries of the planet-construct.

"'Impressive and Terrifying'? Mind explaining that one to me in a bit more detail?" The Lord Primarch asked as his eyes skimmed over the unmoving corpse of the Xeno, Lyvon nodded simply before showing scans of the creature.

"From what we've been able to tell, those 'wires' that have been bug into virtually every single muscle tissue, bone fragment and organ are some kind of matter and energy conduit, they transport raw materials to Nano-machines that then use these materials and energy to reconstruct any damage done to the host body. Said Nano-machines are also constructed and transported through the conduits themselves, allowing for rapid movement to the most effected and damaged areas of the body. Not only that, but so long as a single cell of the creature remains, the system could, theoretically, allow for a complete resurrection within a handful of hours." The Apothecary stated as the Lord Primarch looked back to the creature, caution etched into his features as he noted it, looking for any sign that it might suddenly start healing.

"... Is it capable of coming back?" He asked, his voice cautious as Lyvon noted the Volkite weapon that the Primarch had forged was charging, as though getting ready to do battle once more, Lyvon smiled at that question before bringing up another scan, showing the chest section of the creature.

"No, it is as dead as a creature with such a device implanted in them could get." He stated as he highlighted another device inside the creature, a strange Hexagonal prism that had extended at the midway point to reveal a cylinder that glowed within it, said cylinder was the source of the various conduits.

"What am I looking at, exactly?" Came the question of the Legion's Primarch.

"This, Lord Primarch, is the source of the implants, it serves, as best as we can tell, as a hybrid of both a central control centre for the nanotech, a direct neural interface with the creature, and a power source of some description. When it was destroyed, it seemed that it did more than just depower the implants, it also caused the active nanotech to lose its agency, stopping mid-task as it no longer knew what to do while also causing the backup of the consciousness within to be erased as the destruction of the component seemed to cause a slight overlord leading to the destruction of several control engrams. In essence, Lord Primarch, killing these creatures permanently was as easy as stabbing them in the chest with a Power Sword." Lyvon explained as the Primarch nodded in understanding, his weapon powering down as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good... Though, tell me, what is your opinion of this technology?" He asked the Chief Apothecary, causing Lyvon to pause in thought for a moment.

"It is an impressive technology, though it has several limits and obvious weaknesses that I would recommend removing in one fashion or another before even considering the use of it for ourselves. However, the creation of such implants would be difficult, not to mention costly, meaning that the entire Legion would be unable to benefit from such devices, though a select number of Warforged would be able to make use of these implants. If they did so, once the weaknesses had been removed, I cannot imagine them as anything less than effectively immortal, no matter what kind of weapons were thrown at them." Lyvon paused for a moment, as though in thought before turning back to his Primarch.

"I would, however, recommend that you get one such implant, Lord Primarch. Your own position within the Legion would make you a priority target for those that might wish to destroy the chain of command within our Legion." Lord Marcus seemed to glance his way, looking at him for a moment before nodding.

"Good point, I'll add it to my to-do list once the technology has been perfected." He stated before moving off, throwing a last comment back over his shoulder as he moved off.

"Keep up the good work, my Son."

 **XXX**

I had to admit, the tech used by these Xenos, which my Legion had taken to calling Crawling Mouths, was rather impressive, though it was also disappointing as well. The hull material of the ships was made using a similar method as those implants that were within the Overlords of the race, conduits carrying raw materials and energy to power the repairs were layered between sheets of hard alloys that clearly seemed to have been built up by the Nanotech. It was obvious since there was no other way it could have been built, especially given the utter lack of welds or any other kind of connection points, though, it seemed to have been based on some kind of alloy similar to Adamantium before being altered, the molecules arranged in a complex lattice-like structure that further enhanced the strength of the allow. It was no Black Plate, but it was certainly a good deal better than normal materials. Along with that, the engine of the craft worked in a similar manner to the implants, a central control node that also functioned as a power source, though, we had managed to capture two such power sources in one piece.

It was some kind of variant on Matter/Anti-Matter power generation, replacing normal Baryonic with Dark Matter that seemed to create more energy from the reactions. This was also supplemented by the fact that the hull material seemed to capture unassociated atoms and matter within space and then used Baryonic matter conversion to generate more power. The engines themselves were powered by a mix of the two, working like a Fusion Torch engine, but also seemed to pulse with points of increased acceleration when it collected enough converted Baryonic matter. It was a surprisingly efficient and energetic reaction. Still, with all this energy, the Crawling Mouths had to do something with it, as a result, they had some rather impressive weapons.

Their main weapons of choice were actually a series of Particle Accelerators that fired Neutron-degenerate Matter within a tube of hyper-gravity that kept the pulse stable before it impacted the target. Once the pulse of Neutron Matter impacted the target, the supporting tube cut out and the Neutron Matter explosively uncompressed itself, resulting in no small amount of damage to the target. Their torpedoes were also interesting, a single 'Mother' torpedo was capable of launching over 49 additional projectiles from within its body, each one was tiny in comparison to their 'Mother', but they made up for that by using a kind of Conversion warhead that converted the point of impact to Anti-matter before allowing it to react with the surrounding matter. Admittedly, it was only small chunks, but those chunks were still enough to utterly eradicate an entire Tracker with a single, well placed, hit. Of course, that also said nothing of the fact that they had very good tracking systems, capable of keeping up with said Tracker while it was performing maneuvers that would have amazed the Eldar. The Torpedoes themselves weren't actually made, but, rather, they were grown from pre-designated locations from the nanotech that infested the ships.

As for the ship's Shields, those seemed to be based on some kind of Flash-converted Cold Plasma, contained within a hyper-gravity sheath and a magnetic bottle. The sheath could be shaped and distorted to ensure that it used as much power as was needed and focused it only where it _was_ needed rather than allowing the energy to be wasted forming a complete bubble. It was actually a shame that the system wasn't as robust as it should have been, then again, such things were understandable given the reports I had gotten from the Apothecaries.

Apparently, the Crawling Mouths had once been a proper, intelligent race of beings, however, such a time had long since passed. Warp-based mutations and the energies of the Warp ran rampant within their systems, unrestricted within their biology as it had apparently, over generations, twisted them into what they currently were, little more than savages that didn't even know how to repair or rebuild those systems that the nanotech couldn't fix, such as the central Shield capacitors after they had been knocked down, which had required some kind of pico-engineered crystal focusing system that I had yet to look into, my guess is that it must have required proper tools to recreate rather than the self-repair systems that this race had created. Still, the self-repair systems kept the ship running even as Warp energy tried to twist it, such things were, apparently, repaired in short order, but such things could have been avoided had these vessels even _had_ some kind of Gellar Field equivalent.

As for personal weapons, most of them seemed to gauntlet-like weapons that seemed like some equivalent to rifles that fired that same rapidly growing crystal, but there were a few other things thrown into the mix. Large cannons, similar in size to Ravager Rifles, that used the same Neutron Pulse design as their main weapons while other things like Matter-Conversion weapons were also present, usually as Grenades, but there were a few rifles that seemed to fire a beam that did a similar thing, though, they were bulky as shit.

Still, a good haul, all things considered.

 **XXX**

"Hold on, Brother, you want me to what?" Horus smiled as he heard his Brother speaking through the Astropathic connection. It had been hard finally getting a connection, mostly due to the nature of the protections that his Brother used around him, but it seemed that Marcus was more powerful than he liked to let on considering that he had noticed someone looking for him halfway around the Galaxy. It certainly implied as much, though Horus made a note of filing such information away for later thought, other things needed to be discussed at the moment, resulting in the smiling sliding off his face.

"I require the aid of the Second Legion with a particularly stubborn world of Humans that needs to be brought to Compliance. My Legion could take them, but doing such a thing would incur grave casualties upon both my Legion and the Imperial Auxiliaries that come along with them. You and your Legion, despite being on the other side of the Galaxy, would probably arrive here the quickest, hence my request." Marcus seemed to run over those facts before nodding.

"I can understand that logic, though, you mind telling me what you're up against before I consider throwing my lot in with you and the Luna Wolves? I prefer knowing a bit about any possible enemy before engaging them, at least, when given the chance." Horus smiled and nodded.

"The enemy is a highly advanced race of Humans, they had a small overall population, but have strong defenses in the form of hordes of Machines the likes of which I have never seen before along with a series of turrets around the singular Hive Spire that makes up their presence upon this world. It has strong shields that prevent Orbital Bombardments along with walls that seemed to be constructed from Adamantium with Ceramite layers over them, making it difficult for anything but massed weapons fire to damage them. Of course, these walls are also protected by an energy field of some kind along with a series of moving turrets that are mounted along the tops of the walls." The Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion explained, images appearing as he spoke while Marcus merely took it all in with a vague note of interest behind his eyes.

"Thank you for the information, Horus. I'll gather a force and make our way down to you, preparations should take a week and you already know how long transit will take. Hold tight until we arrive." With that, the channel was disconnected as Marcus disappeared back into the Aether. Horus smiled as he returned to the Materium.

It seemed that he would finally get the chance to see just how greatly the Second Legion had changed since the last time he saw them.

For some reason, he dreaded the answer.

 **XXX**

One week passed with few difficulties. The Siege around the enemy capital, called Dower Lake, for the massive lakes of cool liquid nearby, was going well even though that all the Luna Wolves and their support could do was throw shells at the enemy and watch them either be stopped, either by intercepting Lasers or the energy field itself. A No Man's Land extended for over ten kilometres from the walls of the city, filled with the wrecks of their machines and the corpses of Imperial soldiers and Astartes alike.

Looking at it once more, Horus sighed, the last week had been annoying, the walls showing that they weren't just for the defense of the city, but also to keep the local wildlife out, something that would have been difficult under normal circumstances given the fact that the creatures were massive reptiles, easily a dozen metres long with razor sharp teeth and claws and hides that would ignoring anything but Heavy Anti-Armor fire from either Artillery or other Tanks. Securing a breach head was difficult, if only because these creatures kept wondering into their FOB and killing them as food. Still, Horus knew he had very little choice in the matter, since the only other choice was to muster his entire Legion and strike the city, something that would cost him greatly and would leave the city in ruins.

However, as though picking up on that thought, a voice spoke from behind him.

"But that is why you called me, right, Horus?" Came the voice as he turned to see a form fading into visibility, revealing itself to be his Brother as the armored helmet retracted back into the collar of his armor as Horus, once more, noted how little the armor had changed over the last 27 years. Nodding to his Brother, he gestured to the besieged city before them.

"Indeed it is, Brother. I believed that this situation required one of your Legions... _Unique_ answers. Care to give me your initial impressions?" Marcus nodded as he raised his helmet once more for a moment as he seemed to glance down at the massive fortifications. Horus was willing to admit that he did not know what kind of technologies were packed into that armor, but he was willing to bet that it was advanced beyond anything the Imperium had, especially since his Brother had used Aesir technologies to build it. Several minutes passed in silence before the helmet finally retracted once more, showing his Brother with a smiling face on it.

"Impressive, highly intricate, but impressive all the same." Marcus said before turning back to Horus. "You've really picked one hell of a place to lay Siege to, you know that, right?" Horus gave a bitter chuckle at that as he nodded.

"I take it from your statement that you can shed some light on what kind of fortifications that we face?" Marcus nodded easily enough.

"The walls are ten metres thick of alternating plates of Adamantium and Ceramite, each section being segmented to ensure that a lucky shot won't cripple the integrity of the entire wall. Behind that, the wall is hollow to allow for a dozen emitters with a dozen redundant backups per emitter, all to project some kind of Cold Plasma barrier that is meant to handle kinetic projectiles and Plasma-based weapons. Laser based weapons wouldn't have the necessary power to burn through the wall. Anything that _would_ have enough power would be picked up and targeted through a mix of Heat, EM and Motion-based sensors before being hit with those cannons." Marcus explained, pointing to one of the turrets in question as Horus nodded, they originally had a number of Reaver Battle Titans with them, but they had been the first to be destroyed in battle. Originally it was assumed that they were merely seen as a priority target, but with this new revelation, it was possible that it was due to the Defenders believing that they had weapons powerful enough to breach the Wall.

"And the turrets themselves?"

"A mix, the main ones that have been used to take out anything you've thrown at them are basically upscaled Conversion Beamers, easily on the same power level as Titan-scale weapons but a shit load more power efficient. The secondary ones are basically upgraded autocannons, loaded with either flak shells for air targets or loaded with Air-bursting rounds to deal with infantry."

"And the machines?"

"Can't identify them... Probably homegrown designs based on either their own research or fragments of knowledge that survived the Old Night." Horus nodded at that, if any of his Brothers could be described as being knowledgeable of the Galaxy before the Old Night, then it would have been Marcus. Taking his word for it, he turned to his Brother once more.

"How long until you can come up with a solution to get around those Walls?" Horus asked as Marcus grinned.

"Give me and my Legion an hour and we'll have something for you, but I've got a few ideas in my head for a pincer attack that might work, still pretty rough, and I'll need to check a few things first, but, assuming that everything can work out like I'm hoping, then we'll be looking at a good victory." Horus nodded once more as he turned and marched off with only a few parting words as he went to gather his Legion in preparation to whatever the Second Legion might unleash.

It was always better to be safe than sorry, especially after last time...

 **XXX**

I will admit, when I first discovered that Horus was trying to contact me, I was wary of such things, my knowledge of the Heresy lingering in my mind as I considered such things before discarding them, it was too early for that shit to kick off. I knew a fair bit about the Heresy, but I considered too things to be the main conditions for the Heresy to kick off, namely the fall of Fulgrim and Logar to Chaos, hence why I had already put in place plans to ensure that neither such things happened. The latter of which was actually rather easy, involving a Cyclonic Torpedo to Cadia as it was now. Fulgrim was a bit more difficult to deal with, but I had come up with a few methods and deployed them, hidden, within his Crusade Fleet.

Now, I stood on this random world, helping my Sons build a tunneling machine to aid us in breaking through the fortifications of these upstart Humans. The defenses of this city were impressive, true, but they were limited in that all the guns were pointed outwards, with their war machines having not been built to work _inside_ the city itself. Said machines looked like knock-off copies of the metal skeletons from Terminator, they were strong when compared to a normal Human, but weak next to the power of an Astartes. Still, they had massive numbers on their side, so it was best not to underestimate them.

Regardless, that was merely one prong of the attack, the second prong came in the form of a Grav-cannon that would bring the walls crashing down, mainly by applying a sloped gravitational field that would pull the top of the wall down to the ground. We had run the numbers a dozen times and the theoretical was solid, it _would_ work.

Still, man plans, the Gods laugh, literally in this case.

"Marteleus, is everything ready?" I asked as I looked at the massive machine hidden in a valley, it was basically a giant version of one of the Imperial tunneling machines like the Mole, the Termite, or the Hellbore; a giant cylinder with enough space to hold at least a few hundred Astartes. The sides of it were heavily armored, but no weapons beyond the massive drill were even present, then again, that wasn't the point of it. Turning, I came to see Marteleus standing at the ready, his armor having been augmented and upgraded heavily since the last battle, as had all those who had become veterans within my Legion. All of them had changed their armors to have a bulkier, more angular appearance, designed to increase the chance of a deflection and increase the apparent armor thickness, if hit with an energy weapon. Most of them carried Rifles, but more than a few of them had oversized gauntlets designed as a hybrid weapon system incorporating any number of weapons along with Power Fists of impressive strength, some even had a Rifle in one hand and the other being given these Hybrid weapons. Along with that, the legs were changed, reverse-jointed to allow for greater movement speeds along with increasing the range of their kicks, it also had the benefit of making them stand well above other Astartes when they chose to stand tall. However, the most interesting feature on these new suits of armor being worn by the Warforged were the three, highly flexible tendrils that extended out of the back of each suit of armor, tipped with a single-edged blade that were, once more, hybrid weapons.

These blades were an idea, a fusion of Transonic blades, Power Fields and Nano-shredders, resulting in what my Legion had taken to calling Mist Blades. These things were utterly lethal, and tended to leave behind residue that would eat a target alive.

With a Mist Blade, there was no such thing as 'it's just a scratch'...

"Ready and awaiting your command, Lord Primarch." I nodded at that as I looked him over and mentally smirked, he was armed with the Power Fists, combined with what looked like a Twin-linked Multi-Melta on each arm along with a number of shoulder mounted turrets hidden in the shoulders. Secondary arms were tucked away, hidden around the sides of the chest plate, but they, like on all suits of Jotunn Pattern Power Armor, could unfold to allow for the use of additional weapons, such as the Bolters that were currently stored inside the thighs of each suit of armor.

"Then begin boarding of the craft. I want Immortals near the exit hatch, as I want them out the door first once we come to a stop, their heavy weapons will help to suppress anything that tries to keep us locked in the craft." I stated as I observed said units already moving, their armors having changed only slightly, gaining a sleeker look to them with smoother surfaces, but they still stood a full head over the Warforged, who, in turn, stood head and shoulders above normal Astartes.

"As you command, My Lord." Marteleus stated as I turned back to look at the city. In the distance, I could see a built up of forces, dozens of tanks, artillery pieces and more, clustered along the edge of the No Man's Land.

However, they had yet to move.

At such a distance, I could hear the engines of hundreds, if not thousands, of vehicles, just waiting for the chance to move and attack the wall ahead of them with Astartes lining up, I could pick a few out from the distance I was at, most of them were shifting in anticipation for what was to come. I supposed it was only natural, after all, these Humans had resisted their attempts to pacify them for a fair amount of time, now, that wall had become a symbol of defiance.

And the Luna Wolves were going to rejoice when it came crumbling down.

 **XXX**

"What the hell are those damned Imperials doing now...?" Came the voice of one Chief Sentinel Ethan Dov'veric as he sat in one of the central control rooms, looking at the screens before him as he saw a massive build-up of forces on the other side of the unofficial No Man's Land between the Wall and the Imperial lines. He could see dozens of vehicles, and literal thousands of the Imperial Supersoldiers, most of them looked anxious for some reason, though he _could_ make out a few dozen of them that seemed to glance in the direction of the Wall. Still, whatever it was, he had a bad feeling in his gut about it...

"Who knows with those idiots. I still don't understand why they haven't given up already. The Wall is going to hold against anything those Techno-Barbarians can throw at it, with a _very_ generous margin for error. Not to mentioned the fact that they can't call in orbital fire since we've got Shields to protect us from that." Came the voice of another person in the room, Senior Sentinel Harvey Fil'gotis. The Senior Sentinel had been manning the Wall for over a hundred years, life extension technologies keeping him alive even though he could have gotten better stuff at a higher rank, though, he seemed content to just let younger men, such as Ethan, out rank him.

"Maybe, but we've already seen the kind of support these idiots have. If they really wanted to, I have little doubt they could try flooding the wall with sheer numbers. Sure, they'd die by the Tanker load, but it _still_ would have been better than this waiting." Ethan remarked as the tension was starting to effect some of the other Sentinels as well. Since they had arrived, the Imperials had launched virtually non-stop attacks on the Wall in the hopes of creating a breach, however, their silence for the last week was making everyone nervous, ratcheting up the tension as many started to wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.

"Who knows... Maybe their getting ready to finally pack up and leave the planet, we're not going anywhere, so I honestly don't see why their making such a big deal out of one city when they're probably trying to take the whole _fucking_ Galaxy." Harvey snorted at that, only half joking since he knew the math. The idea of a single race being able to conquer an entire Galaxy was about as possible as the Galactic Core suddenly turning into a giant dick and flying towards the Dark Eye of Night. "Yeah, good luck with _that_..."

Ethan only offered a single snort at the sarcastic tone of his companion as he kept looking at the build-up, sitting just outside of the range of their defenses, but still within view of their optical sensors. Suddenly, he saw something out the corner of his eye, a massive figure that towered over the other supersoldiers, his armor was well made and his bald head exposed to the elements. However, as Ethan zoomed into the figure, he also spotted a few other things, but there was one thing about this new figure that made him pause, uncertainty and dread boiling in his stomach.

This figure, clearly the leader of the invasion, was smiling.

The Chief Sentinel didn't get much of a chance to contemplate that as alarms started ringing all around him.

"What the hell!? Structural sensors within the wall are detecting an increase in the amount of stress on the wall, it came out of fucking nowhere!" Came the shout from Harvey as he shot up from his seat at the monitoring station. "It's like gravity just increased a few dozen orders of magnitude...!"

"Seismic sensors are reporting something coming from below! It's too steady to be an Earthquake, what the hell!?" Came another voice as Ethan took this information in before his eyes widened in horror.

"The Imperials are breaching the wall! Their using some kind of gravity altering device to bring the wall down while another force digs under it to attack us from within!" Ethan shouted as he ran over to the wall and slammed his fist into a nearby intercom system even as his fist hit another, bit, red button, near it.

"Attention! This is Chief Sentinel Ethan Dov'veric! We are at condition red! I repeat, we are at condition red! The Imperials are breaking through the wall and are mounting an underground assault on the city! All Sentinels are to report to Wall Sector 27 through 35 and begin digging in to prevent them from getting a foothold along with City Sector twelve! We cannot allow the Imperials to gain a foothold! This is not a drill!" Ethan shouted down the intercom system, his voice echoing through the hallways loud enough to wake the dead. Then again, even the dead would be needed for this battle.

Ethan had a gut feeling, and that feeling was telling him that things had just gone from bad, to utterly horrific...

 **XXX**

All throughout the city, Sentinels rushed to armories and armed themselves with anything and everything they could get their hands on while Defiant-class Mechanoids, looking very much like faceless, mechanical skeletons, marched ahead of them with weapons in hand. The Sentinels marched to catch up with them as barricades were quickly put in place after each Sentinel had slipped into their Power Armor, massive constructs that were smoother, slimmer with a much hunched profile when compared to those worn by the Space Marines of the Lune Wolves. Over their heads, they did not wear a helmet, rather, an orange, reflective polymer visor covered their heads entirely as they shouldered their weapons and prepared.

For most Sentinels, their weapons seemed rather standard, Gauss Rifles firing Ceramite-tipped HE rounds or Arc cannons firing ion-laser directed bolts of Lightning. Their armor, once more, was bog standard stuff to them, a Ceramite reinforced suit of armor with dozens of muscle enhancements and even an ablative Shield mounted on the left shoulder. The Defiant were armed in a similar manner, though they carried weapons with either a larger calibur or large capacitors, most would have considered such weapons as being Anti-tank weapons while the few armored vehicles the Sentinels had were used to rapidly transport them, serving as little more than combat dropships as they were deployed along the possible positions of attack.

At the Wall, the defenders worked quickly to encircle the point where the walls had already started to buckle, turrets had been moved, but it would be difficult to fire them on the attackers since this attack created a vast blind spot in the defense network. Instead, the Sentinels set up mobile gun batteries armed with oversized Gauss cannons that would rain down HE shells on the Imperials while cover was created through the use of five metre high mobile walls that extended and connected to one another. Each wall was a metre thick, made from a steel frame with a layer of Adamantium over the outer face as fully armed and armored men quickly climbed up ladders and prepared for war. They looked up as they saw metres of some of the strongest materials begin to warp and buckle as the unstoppable force of Gravity took its toll upon the wall before them. Already, some nervously gripped their weapons as the top of the Wall that had protected them for so long seemed to dip down, material slowly starting to tear.

Meanwhile, similar fortifications were taking place within the City, in a massive Plaza where the Imperials were due to emerge. Walls were built high while dozens of Defiant were stationed around and in front of these Mobile Walls to ensure that the Imperials did _not_ get a breach head like they wanted to.

The minutes ticked by with an utter stillness that filled the hearts of the defenders with a strange mixture of utter terror and steely determination, their weapons at the ready while sensors continued to ring out, saying that both the invaders were getting closer and the wall would soon fall.

It was merely a question of which would happen first.

Said question was rapidly answered as the Sentinels looked out as a massive monolith of black metal started emerging from the earth below them, none wasted their time as the spinning drill head burst from the ground, opening fire as Defiant rushed towards the object, weapons firing at full-auto as they moved, unbothered by the heavier loads as they advanced while the massive construct continued to unearth itself. Twenty metres, fifty metres, a hundred metres, the digging machine continued to rise until it stood well over three hundred metres above the battlefield of choice before stabilizer legs popped out from the sides, clamping down on the ground around the machine as the defenders continued firing for a moment.

Their fire slowly petered out as no return fire came at them, smoke drifted lazily across the field of battle as the dust kicked up by the rain of artillery fire made it difficult to see exact what was happening around the construct as Defiant moved closer to it. Slowly, they moved towards the cloud of smoke as they moved to investigate the object, weapons at the ready as their sensor-filled heads moved from side to side, searching for a target.

It never found a target, but it's potential targets found it.

Suddenly, the Defiant closest to the towering machine were scythed down by a wall of fire, massive mass-reactive bolts hitting their Ceramite construction and blasting through it, exploding internally or externally and, for a moment, forming miniature stars before disappearing, leaving only ashes and ruins behind them. The first Imperial warrior stepped out of the cloud of dust, advancing as the first lines of machines were cut down without pause, followed by the second, then the third, and so on as the Sentinels finally saw what kind of enemy they were facing before them.

And then they knew despair.

The first line of Imperial warriors were massive, hulking beings, standing easily a metre over a fully armored Sentinel, who stood around 2.3 metres tall. Each one was a veritable walking arsenal as they advanced without pause, headless of the return fire that was being sent towards them. They hefted massive weapons that fired streams of Bolts towards them, the sheer size of each Bolt ensuring that it would, at the very least, knock a Sentinel off his feet with heavy damage done to the armor. Unfortunately, these armored giants were deadly accurate with their weapons as weak points were instantly denoted and targeted as Bolts slammed into weak visors and utterly annihilated the heads of the defenders. Shields and heavy armor protected these Shock Troopers from counter-fire as wave after wave of Gauss-accelerated bullets and lightning bolts rained down on them, only amplified by the unending rain of artillery shells.

Their Shields cracked, their armor was ripped open and their flesh was ripped apart, but they refused to simply die. Many watched in horror as those that had their heads blown off simply regrew them without pause, not even stopping in their approach as flesh healed, armor repaired itself and impossibly strong Shields reactivated themselves. As they grew closer, the Defenders were shocked to see that none of the damage they had dealt had lasted beyond a few minutes of the armored giants' advance.

The Defenders learned why these Giants were called Immortals.

However, what made this even worse was that, behind the initial advance came more of the Giants, smaller than those in the lead, but still towering over a fully armored Sentinel by at least thirty centimentres. Most seemed to be armed with Rifles, but each of these creatures advanced quickly, protected by armor and Shields that held strong as only sporadic counter-fire was aimed at them, most prioritized the leading Giants over those smaller giants. In a moment of quick thinking, one of the Senior Sentinels retargeted the Artillery guns to target the Giants directly rather than raining shells down on them, the idea being to damage them too greatly through sheer kinetic power that they couldn't regenerate.

It would have worked too... Had the Giants not taken to the air as soon as the gun was orientated towards them.

Suddenly, the leading Immortals took to the air, trails of flames and smoke leaking behind them as they landed, the sound echoing like thunder as Power Fields expanded on their impact with the ground, ripping through the Defenders that were too close to them as Mauler Bolt Cannons swiveled around and started firing from their shoulders along with barrages of Micro-Missiles. The Sentinels were scythed down as the Immortals targeted the mobile guns and large concentrations of enemy forces, their underbarrel Meltaguns being put to use as the few Sentinels with something approaching the same bulk of sheer armor were scythed down by the Fusion-grade Plasma beams, utterly annihilated as they offered little in the way of resistance as the Warforged advanced behind the protection of their Heavily Armored Brothers.

Within minutes of their arrival, the encirclement had been broken as the Unbroken charged ahead, few in number, but against these Humans, who had relied so heavily upon their automated defenses, the only threat they faced was that of massed heavy weapons fire. Then again, such things were hardly any different to their standard methods of operation, so they advanced, mindful of their surroundings, but confident in their immediate victory.

"The Unyielding! The Unbroken!"

 **XXX**

"The Unyielding! The Unbroken!" Horus smiled as he heard the deafening warcry of the Second Legion echoing through the city, even over the sounds of gunfire that came from ahead of his own Legion as they barreled forwards, not willing to be outdone by their Brothers in the Second. Beside him, his Honorguard of terminators defended him as Land Raider Proteui, Spartan Assault Tanks and a few Mastodons charged into the breach formed through the efforts of the Second.

"Come, my Sons! To victory!" Horus shouted as he pointed his Power Sword at the massive breach in the formerly impenetrable walls of these Humans. The Mastodon he stood on seemed to speed up as he had little doubt that the Son of his in the Driver's seat was pushing the vehicle as hard as it could go, putting it at the tip of the spear thrust that would charge straight into the heart of the breach. Beside the Mastodon, dozens of other vehicles charged beside him, APCs picking up the rear as they raced with Astartes who had chosen to simply run towards the target as fast as they transhuman bodies would allow. His Legion raced to be the first into the Breach after him as the return fire of artillery shells and bullets came at them even as Horus smiled.

"Lupercal!" Came the warcry of the Luna Wolves, echoing into the distance as they rapidly closed the distance between themselves and the defenders. From atop his perch, Horus jumped, the first into the breach as deployment ramps on a dozen vehicles slammed open as Astartes rushed to follow. Already, dozens of others followed behind him as the sound of Bolters and brutal melee filled the air, the defenders dying in droves along with their mechanical servants, but still reaping a toll in turn.

Still, it wasn't enough.

The floodgates had been opened and the Sixteenth Legion was pouring through like an unstoppable wave of water even as other tunneling machines burst from the ground, more members of the Second Legion pouring out of them in a constant rain of Astartes as their terminator-equivalents took to the front of every assault. Horus even saw them charging straight towards the enemy at one point, their Shields cracking before recharging as their armors seemed to cycle through being damaged before repairing themselves with an almost unnatural speed. Injuries that would have killed a normal Astartes were shrugged off by these warriors as they kept going, utterly defiant in the face of death, spitting upon it and calling it weak as they returned from that point a dozen times with neither complaint nor difficulty.

It was a powerful thing to witness, much less fight against as the effect was obvious. The defenders simply refused to engage the Immortals of the Second Legion, falling back wherever those men approached as the Warforged of the Second came at them with a savagery and merciless efficiency that often left him amazed as none survived their passing. His own Legion was nothing to scoff at either, killing dozens in turn as they advanced forwards, supported by heavy weapons as those members of the Second Legion worked to expand the breach. Legion Basilisks and Medusa were used to send down a rain of artillery shells while other vehicles added their own weight of fire. Messages quickly carried over the Vox network as the Second Legion quickly reported that they were targeting the AA guns of these Human defenders.

Horus grinned at that, with such defenses crumbling, the Imperial forces could bring their utter supremacy at warfare to bear upon the inhabitants of this world. Already, he started composing a message to the ships in orbit to begin deploying air assets to aid them in this fight, telling the officers of the Second to send information on which sectors were cleared as it happened. They complied as they sent him and the officers of his Legion a constantly updating map showing where the air cover was the thickest and where it was clear, even including a cipher to show what the colours meant. Horus merely looked at it with a half-smirk, it seemed that the Second Legion had taken on his Brother's sense of humor, if only slightly since they weren't calling him or his Legion idiots.

"Forwards! For the Imperium!" He shouted as his Power Sword cut through another one of the skeletal machines used by the defenders in the vain hope that they could still come out victorious.

"For the Imperium!"

Such a hope would see them utterly crushed and broken by the day's end.

 **XXX**

 **(Play 'Cities in Dust' by The Everlove for full effect)**

"Fallback! Damnit! Fallback!" Ethan shouted as he pulled along an injured Sentinel as he fired his Gauss Rifle with one hand. The Hypersonic rounds impacted the white armor of the leading Supersoldier, the first few shots doing nothing before the armor gave in, the helmet carved in and killing the warrior within even as his companions continued onwards at inhuman speeds. They were being forced to pull back to the central towers that sat in the middle of the city, the heart of the defense network and the place that sat directly over the Shields that protected them from Orbital strikes. As they pulled back, Ethan could only thank whatever god might have existed that they were fighting the original Invaders and not the _Others_.

The Others, as many had taken to calling them in hushed, terror-filled whispers, were a nightmare to deal with. Their weapons were strong enough to crack open Power Armor with melee weapons that would leave a man dead within moments from even a single scratch, causing the victims to dissolve in a mist of black particles. Their armor, as well, was impossible, simply shrugging off more damage than they had any right to before standing back up from wounds that _should_ have killed them a thousand times over. The Others were not warriors, they were creatures from the darkest nightmares, forged into existence by the _Psykers_ of the Imperium.

Ethan grit his teeth at the thought, the City had long since had a simple policy about _them_ since the Fall; A zero tolerance policy, in which any Psyker was to be shot and killed as soon as it was discovered. It was a good policy since it prevented things like _this_ from happening!

"Seal the Gate, Damnit! Seal it now!" He shouted through his communicator, ignoring the protests of his men as he knew that he was leaving others out there to die, but he had no choice. The Keep had to be held to ensure the Anti-Orbital Shields did not fall. Not only that, but it was one of the last, few places where the defenses had not been completely compromised by the Imperials and the Others, already, his suit connected to the local network and informed him that at least twelve million people, barely a sixth of the City's population, had been evacuated to the Warrens below the Keep, a final defensive position that was made to survive even the planet cracking below them, with airtight shields over the courtyard and fifteen metre thick Adamantium and Ceramite walls, not to mention the turrets mounting Anti-Matter cannons to keep the Imps out.

Still, that meant nothing if they Imps managed to get through the gate as it rumbled closed.

"Right side! Right side!" Came the call of another one of his soldiers as those gathered around the gate opened fire, mowing down the Supersoldiers as they tried to advance, a Mobile Gun hidden by cover and protected by a force field ensured that the return fire did not destroy it. Still, even as the fighting continued, Ethan could not help but look at the remains of the City.

Once gleaming spires of glass and metal that reached for the heaven had been reduced to rubble and ruins by the relentless advance of the Imperials and their pet monsters. Sentinels fighting in familiar streets, markets and homes as they tried to salvage some false hope at the idea of being able to push the Imperials back out. The chance still existed, since the Keep had the ability to produce Defiant at an impressive speed, but Ethan did not have much hope of that even happening, especially with what he had witnessed. As the Gate rumbled closed, Ethan felt a solitary tear roll down his face as he took in his last sight of the City, not as a beautiful marvel of engineering, but as little more than a corpse-covered ruin.

With a deep, resonating _thump_ , the Gate was sealed shut, leaving the last inhabitants of the City and the last of the Sentinels in relative quiet as many collapsed as the adrenaline finally left their systems as they stood in the safety of the Keep.

"Finally... It's over..." Ethan muttered to himself... Only to make an unpleasant, horrifying, discovery.

"No, not yet." The voice was distorted, layered and utterly alien as to make it inhuman as Ethan snapped up to see the source of the voice step out of the shadow of the Keep. From around the Courtyard, they looked on in horror as Others stepped out of the shadows, weapons drawn and looking to be ready to wipe them out without a single second of hesitation as Ethan's own eyes locked on to the speaker.

He was tall, taller than any other Imperial Supersoldier, save for the one that had lead the White Armored ones into battle. He was clad in armor darker than the void, symbols having been engraved into the surface of his armor that Ethan only noticed thanks to the magnification system in his visor. They showed no power flowing through them, but Ethan had no doubt that such things could change within mere moments as he looked upon the blank face of the helmet, red lenses glaring down at him even as he struggled to get to his feet, his body rebelling against him and screaming its refusal to move. Trying to raise his weapon, it turned out to be a futile gesture as the Gauss Rifle was blown out of his hands before it was even raised beyond the floor, the weapon exploding in his hands, leaving him with a sparking lump of metal that had been ripped in half and was leaking coolant. Ethan snarled at that even as he noticed that other weapons had suffered a similar fate.

"... However, it will be over soon. How soon this ends is entirely up to you, Chief Sentinel Ethan Dov'veric." The figure stated, causing Ethan to freeze at this being knowing his name. Subtly, he checked his sensors for any signature of Unreal Energies and, to his horror, found each one of the Others emitting it in miniscule amounts. It identified each and every single one of them as Psykers, only making things worse as Ethan knew the danger of such things, after all, Psykers could do a significant amount of damage with but a name. Ethan snarled at that, knowing that he had few options available to him.

"... And, I assume, that you want me to order my men to surrender, _Psyker_?" He hissed the name with enough venom to melt tank armor, but the Psyker was utterly unmoved by it as it simply nodded.

"Yes." It said simply, no further elaboration needed, which only seemed to enrage the Sentinels further. Ethan said nothing, merely forcing himself to his feat as the weapons of the Others tracked him as he took three steps forwards from the sealed Gate before opening his visor and spitting at the ground. Silence descended over the Courtyard at that, a proclamation of his intent to not order his men to surrender, the leader of the Others merely looked at the spot on the ground where the spit had landed before looking back at the Chief Sentinel, locking gaze with his hate-filled eyes.

"A pity." Was all the creature said before it lifted its arm, revealing something in its hand that made the eyes of every Sentinel widen in horror.

A detonator.

Without a second thought, the Psyker pressed the single button on the detonator and the ground shook as explosions filled the Keep, breaching the armored walls of the impressive structure before enough holes were made to compromise the structural integrity of the Keep, causing it to fall upon the walls surrounding it, snapping in half as it fell and compressing the wall slightly. The Others seemed unaffected by it, but the destruction of the last fallback position in the City was enough to break the hearts and morale of the few remaining Sentinels. Ethan fell to the ground, not even looking up as he heard footsteps approaching him before he saw the greaves of the Leader-creature.

"Don't worry, Mortal, for your people will survive to live under Imperial rule. You, however, shall not live long enough to witness such a thing." Had Ethan looked up, he would have seen three barrels glowing with energy before they discharged into his uncovered head, boiling his brain and burning a hole through the back of his armor.

Chief Sentinel Ethan Dov'veric died before his body even touched the ground, his subordinates soon joining him as they were killed barely a nano-second later in a killzone of Bolter shells and Plasma.

And with their deaths, and the destruction of the Keep, the Defenders surrendered barely an hour later.

One more world, brought into Imperial Compliance.

 **XXX**

Looking over the remains of the city that had held off Horus for months, I couldn't help but frown slightly as I looked over the destruction that had been wrought on to the city. It was a shame that it had had to be destroyed to bring into compliance, but I never enjoyed such things, doing so to a Xenos world, I could get behind, especially if they were oppressing Humans. However, I could barely tolerate doing this to Humans who would not bend the knee, sure, if they were morally corrupt and doing something utterly repulsive, but these Humans were merely wishing to be left alone.

Even now, I could hear the howls of joy and glee from the Luna Wolves, who were reveling in the 'glory' of a completed campaign and were simply waiting to be let off the leash with a new target. I felt my frown grow slightly as I looked down from atop the tower I now stood on, the tallest structure that was still standing, even though a concentrated barrage of artillery shells had snapped it in half with the top half falling to the ground below. I looked around and saw the carnage that filled the streets, bodies, both of the defenders, both Human and Machine, along with the bodies of Imperial Army soldiers mixed with Astartes, even some of my own Sons had been killed during this, a few hundred of them, but Horus had lost a few thousand during this Siege, he was more willing to accept such loses given that it had finally meant victory.

I shook my head at such an idea, my Legion, while concentrated in a single fleet, was still smaller than many of the other Legions, even those without their Primarchs. That simply meant that I, and my Legion, always had to have force-multipliers on our side, not to mention being as prepared as possible before the first shot was even fired.

"I trust that you were able to get samples of everything?" I asked, not even bothering to turn around as I noted a shadow stretching from a figure behind me, thin, but much taller, an almost skeletal appearance but stretched upwards. I saw the head nod once before I nodded in turn.

"Good. Take it to Vault seven and leave it there for me to go through later. I'll be sending out orders soon, be ready to leave when they are sent out." I commanded as the shadow nodded once more before disappearing altogether, I glanced over my shoulder once to see that I was utterly alone once more as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"... The only easy day was yesterday..." I muttered to myself as I suddenly picked up a communication from the _Necessity_ in orbit. I felt my eyebrow twitch at that.

"If it's not one thing, then it's something else..." I muttered to myself as I opened the message. I blinked once, twice, then thrice as I saw the contents in my mind's eye, not believing it for a moment before I exited then re-entered the message, only to find the same thing once again.

... Ok, it appeared that the Unbroken had managed to find Cybertron... Somehow...

 **XXX**

AN: CLIFFHANGER OF DOOM!

... I know, I'm an asshole, but I couldn't help it. The next chapter will carry on from this, and I have much planned for the next chapter, along with the following ones after that. Also, for anyone curious, the Immortals look something like the 'Heavy Repeater' by AlienTan while the new suits of armor for the Unbroken look like the 'Lemurian EXO Armor' by PeterPrime, both of which are on Deviantart.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


	14. The Steel War

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: Ok, sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter of this jumble of words, letters, ideas and... Is that a Cabbage? How the hell did that get there?

... I blame Tzeentch..

Anyway, before we get on to the chapter, let me just say that, this is _not_ a multi-cross, at least, not at this point since I've got a few rough ideas for after everything is said and done.

With that out of the way, enjoy the Chapter and be sure to give thanks to souvikkundu0017 for his work in this!

 **XXX**

She could feel them.

They hovered around the edges of the system like vultures circiling a dying animal, ready to swoop in and pick the corpse clean with a ravenous hunger. She could feel them growing closer, thinking themselves hidden from her as they came, clearly trying again, after so many millennia, to reclaim that which they considered as their _property_. She snarled at the idea as she felt them growing steadily closer, hidden from all sensors but the ones that mattered the most, clearly, they had let their standards drop, an unusually turn of events, but not an unheard of one. It had happened before, especially in places where they had believed that they did not require their strongest, most advanced weapons of war.

It was arrogance. It was pride and utter foolishness to believe that these _things_ would need anything less than a full Battlefleet to take her from the centre of her power, her Sanctuary.

She felt them, soulless things clad in steel and circuits, thinking themselves to be the highest form of life, when they were little more than lines of corrupted coding and scrap metal waiting to be recycled for better purposes.

She felt them coming, her eyes narrowing and her lips twitching into a razor-edged, feral smirk.

 _Let them come. They shall taste the steel of my blades soon enough!_

 **XXX**

Looking at a projection of the metal-planet/construct before me, I could tell that it, most definitely, was not Cybertron.

Cybertron had become the temporary designation of the planet, but it was not the fictional planet I was thinking of for a number of reasons. Chief among those reasons was the size of the construct, being around the same size as Terra with relatively similar mass and appearing to have some kind of breathable atmosphere. It was something I found strange since it most resembled the Cybertron from Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Still, even with this curiosity before me and my Legion, I was cautious, advancing my fleet to stay back a reasonable distance before I sent a flight of Trackers to investigate the planet further. Three of the small warships were to do a fly-by to gather more information about the planet itself even as sensors detected no form of orbital network around the planet, something I found strange as I narrowed my eyes slightly at the spinning globe.

" _Has anything been detected by Alpha flight?_ " I asked, having switched to the Field to ensure security along with because the ships were currently running at Battle-stations. No oxygen was present in the ships along with a complete lack of artificial gravity to allow more power to be supplied to other systems. I frowned slightly even as Marteleus shook his armored head.

" _Nothing yet, Lord Primarch. Alpha flight has reported that they have begun to use passive auspex to scan the surface, but they have detected nothing in the way of power signatures, let alone more common things such as heat signatures and the like._ " I nodded in understanding at that, though, I hadn't expected much in the way of the latter, the lack of the former was suspicious and my gut was telling me that something was going on here.

I didn't like it, not one bit.

" _Tell Alpha flight to hold position in high orbit and beam back terrain information to the_ Necessity _, I want to know what kind of environments we might be fighting in if things go bad._ " I remarked as I never took my eyes off the globe.

" _Understood, Lord Pri-Energy Surge detected, it's coming from the planet!_ " Marteleus began before interrupting himself, a new report coming through as he relayed the orders. My eyes snapped around to him before snapping back to the holographic image before me as I saw it zoom in with a thought, locking on to the source of the power signature. The hologram showed a series of towers, massive in size, measuring at least five kilometres tall from base to the tip, I felt my eyes widen as I watched the towers shift, spinning around at their bases before they started to tip, suddenly going from pointing straight up to pointing at some distant object with hinges located about a third of the way up their bodies, the remaining third hovering as a counter balance as a massive hatch opened at the tip, glowing with energy.

It didn't take a genius to tell what those were, but, unfortunately, it was too late to change a thing.

The collective might of several of these massive cannons fired, sensors recording everything as they launched beams of glowing cyan energy, sensors stating that they were like upscaled Neutron Lasers. The Trackers in orbit didn't even get a chance to evade as multiple shots impacted each ship, blowing it apart as the Mirage Shield offered no protection from weapons that were clearly designed to blow much large craft to pieces.

An instant later, all that was left was scrap metal.

Silence filled the room for a time, even the background chatter of the Field that connected the Fleet before Marteleus spoke, his voice dry as I thought I heard him licking his lips while her thought-voice conveyed how unsure he was about how to proceed.

" _Lord Primarch. Sensors... Sensors are showing more power signatures appearing across the planet... More of the orbital defense guns are coming online. What are your orders...?_ " He asked, looking for solace in me, for me to give him something to do rather than wait, helpless to either avenge the Brothers he had already lost, or prevent it from happening once more. I leaned against the hololithic engine, sighing to myself as I closed my eyes, submerging myself in the sea of data as I analyzed what had happened, looking at power outputs, projected fields of fire and a dozen other factors as I opened my eyes once more, a thin smile on my features, hidden by my helmet.

" _Prepare the fleet for a Drop Assault, all designated personnel are to report to the decent bays after arming themselves appropriately for the coming campaign... I am releasing the lock on the Alpha-level War Vaults, full access is allowed for the duration of this campaign._ " I said, a thought-command being enough to order such a thing to be so as I noted a fair number of the Jotunns nearby stopped what they were doing for a moment before continuing onwards, a momentary stutter of action and purpose as they took in what I said. I smiled at that, it was understandable, in a way; The War Vaults were the storage locations of the Wargear of the Second Legion, there were multiple levels of such things, but it generally worked out that everything up to, and including, Beta-level was considered the standard stuff. Alpha-level Wargear was when things started getting... _Extreme_.

Alpha-level Wargear were weapons of unparallel destruction; Nano-Shredder and Ruiner Bolt Shells, Matter-conversion weapons, Neutron-pulse weapons and, most feared of all, Warp Mediums, channels for Warp energies that allowed the Phase-Smiths, those most skilled with their Psychic talents and having become skilled in the arts of Technomancy, to summon armies of machines with a single thought...

... Among other things...

" _Oh, a prepare an initial bombardment... A full spread of Hydra Torpedoes from all ships, the main targets will be those Anti-orbital guns, spare Fangs can be set to Auto-seeking mode. Also, set them up for self-guidance to their targets, no telling what kind of defenses the beings down there might have, but I think this will serve as a good... Opening move, I suppose. Also, summon my Praetorians, I think it's time that these beings learn the folly of challenging the Unbroken..._ "

 **XXX**

She smiled cruelly as she watched their vessels, a scout flight, crumble under the fire from the defenses that had been constructed around her Sanctuary. The weapons were weak, simplistic and crude, just like a great many things that she had made, reconstructed from half forgotten memories and highly corrupted databases, but they worked and, if that was any indication, were still well above what they had expected. With a thought, the rest of the Defense network activated and reported that it was active as those facing their fleet aimed themselves in the rough direction of what remained of the enemy fleet, a few hundred vessels of varying size, though she would admit, they were smaller than she had expected.

The stand-off lasted for moments before sensors reported that the enemy were moving, slower than she expected, but heading towards her Sanctuary. She wondered what they were planning since she knew that bringing such large ships closer to the planet, even as they activated their Shields and stopped trying to hide, would only bring them into the range of her guns. Silently, she wondered what they were thinking, it was too straightforward a move for something else not to have been planned, she continued to wonder when sensors detected every vessel in their fleet launching projectiles, Torpedoes, at her Sanctuary.

Her eyebrow rose at the obvious attack as she sent the command to activate the point-defenses of the her Sanctuary, her knowledge of Shielding technologies only extending as far as Vehicle-grade systems, having not retained enough to know the inner workings of either Theater-Grade or Planetary-Grade Shielding devices. Across the surface of her Sanctuary, dozens of turrets surfaced from their hidden pockets, quad-linked Pulse Lasers powering up and scanning the edge of the atmosphere for targets, waiting for the doomed projectiles to enter their range.

However, as soon as the projectiles touched the outer edges of the atmosphere, she felt her eyes widen in surprise as each torpedo suddenly released dozens of secondary projectiles, increasing the total amount of projectiles fifty fold. That, in itself was not a problem, however, what was a problem was just how agile these weapons were as they ginked one way or another, avoiding beams of energy that _should_ have destroyed them as they neared the surface of the planet rapidly.

When the first one found its target, one of the many orbital guns, she knew horror.

Her sensors dutifully reported what was happening as she saw it happen, the projectile impacted the massive gun before something changed, a pulse of energy as matter was shifted before it reacted, energy being explosively released as the supports of the orbital gun snapped and feel, a smoking wreck slamming into the surface of her Sanctuary. Sure, the point defenses managed to take down some of these projectiles, but too many were getting through for it to make a difference as she suddenly understood what they were trying to do.

This was not a bombardment in the traditional sense, this was them clearing the land to allow for the creation of a Breach head, a different tactic than what she was used to them using, but still recognizable for what it was.

The follow up use of Drop Pods was interesting, but only partially, what stepped out of them once they landed, however, that is what caught her attention the most.

 **XXX**

Seven years.

That was how long it had been since I, along with the Unbroken, had started to take an active part in the Crusade. Five years that, in the beginning, had been a slow slog through primitive Xenos and Human races before the encounter with the Tree Fuckers before things started getting more difficult as I ordered my fleet to advance deeper into Segmentum Obscurus. The encounter with the Crawling Mouths had been little under a year ago, but I had encountered a fair number of Xenos races, both space fairing and isolated, that were still rather tricky to deal with. Though such encounters were becoming more common, few races I had encountered were even able to put up a decent fight, forcing the need for the Unbroken to advance massively from their current situations.

In short, my Legion was slowly becoming stagnant.

Those that realized it cursed themselves, for stagnation was not the way of the Unbroken; Unlike the other Legions, adaptation, mutation, growth and constant evolution were our ways, constantly testing ourselves through the crucible of combat.

However, it seemed that the Universe was not as cruel as I thought it was.

For as we searched for a new challenge to face, the universe had provided such a thing for us in the form of Cybertron, the planet I now raced towards, surrounded by my Legion and protected by one of many specially crafted Drop Pods. Even as the Flight of Trackers had been blown from the air, I knew that, beyond the nervousness that my Legion felt on the surface, I could feel their joy and glee at finally finding something with which to test themselves against, something that would push them to the brink of existence and beyond.

Survival of the fittest at its finest, another belief of my Legion, believing that if they were not able to change and evolve to overcome an obstacle, then they could not serve the Legion. It was a rather fatalistic view of things, but one that I could not change, unlike the Aesir, who I was planning to change the opinions of in time when it came to Humans, the Jotunns were fixed in this. To not be capable of changing to fight their foes was to be immutable; To be immutable, for the Unbroken, was a fate worse than death...

Still, now, they had a challenge to face, to overcome... Or die trying...

Personally, even as I grinned within my Drop Pod, I had a feeling that the first outcome was more likely to happen even as I felt the anticipation and barely restrained glee coming through the links with the other Jotunns as I linked back to my Pod, looking at it as I checked the sensors and the wider network of the Unbroken. I smiled within my helmet as I saw what was happening, the fleet working to clear away any possible defenses that they could see on the planet as I made a note of how much space would need to be garrisoned. Quickly, before impact, I made a message and sent it to the Second Aesir Auxiliary Corps, telling them to hurry up and meet us here to provide support. They were moving ahead of the Imperials anyway, since the Imperials had basically been relegated to garrison forces and colony builders behind the advance of the Second Legion.

And Impact...

To a normal Human, the impact would have been crushing, more than enough to see said Human being turned to paste, it would have even stunned most Astartes and jolted my Brothers around, but I took it without so much as a twitch. I smiled at that, it was always good to become stronger, better, especially given the hell hole of a galaxy I, now, existed in.

Moments after impact, the Drop Pod opened, the tip of the elongated, triple-edged blade of a construct having embedded itself deep into the metal surface of the planet before the three sides separated, each tacking a third of the roof of the pod with them as the sides of the Pod expanded outwards, planting themselves on the ground as bolts slammed into the ground, anchoring them as the occupants disembarked. Aside from the six men within, myself included, I watched the walls formed from the sides of the Pod, suddenly coming alive as objects detached from each one of the 'walls', dropping to the ground, but landing on their feet.

Voraxes, each Pod having a total of fifteen held within them as the machines came to life, their orders being loaded from memory as they burst into action without even a nano-second of hesitation. I smiled at that, even as the other five men with me stepped out from the Pod, along with those Pods that had landed close by. Glancing at the other men, I felt my smile grow further as I looked upon a member of my Praetorians, my elite guard that were made up of fifty of the greatest champions of the Sharpened Shield, which had long since expanded to being over two thousand strong.

Out of all of them, my Praetorians were the strongest, augmented with the latest technological advances of the Legion, their duty having been hardcoded into them in such a way that it burned within their souls and genes. Their bodies had been augmented with the latest version of the Nanoweave technology, refined and upgraded from the crude version used by the Crawling Mouths and clothed in armor weaved with the same technology as well, in imitation to the hull materials of the Crawling Mouths. My Praetorians were made to be unstoppable, and it showed, the Nanoweave allowing them to resurrect themselves, armor and all, from a few dozen cells with the aim being that they could return from a single cell once the technology had been given time to be perfected. Dozens of layers of Sub-dermal armor, their bodies fused with their armor through dozens of DNI connections and literally thousands of other, more esoteric, augments that turned them into nigh-unstoppable forces of nature. However, if that wasn't bad enough, they all carried a limited form of nanotech that allowed them to gather materials before using them to self-augment themselves, not to mention crafting their own weapons from an immense, constantly updating database of technologies.

And the less said about their Psychic abilities, the better...

It went without saying that such warriors had few, if no, equals, and only one that they would call their master, any who claimed to be their master besides said individual was bound to be in for a rather unpleasant death.

I smiled as I strode forwards, these warriors at my side.

It was time to go to war.

 **XXX**

"... Hmmm... It seems that they _have_ made some upgrades..." She muttered to herself, her voice coming out as oddly metallic with an echo-like quality to it even as it remained smooth, like velvet to any who listened to it that stroked the inside of your ears. Still, she barely even cared for such things, her puppets didn't since she had never programmed them to do so, nor was there anyone else in her Sanctuary to appreciate such things...

She pulled herself away from such a line of thinking, having spent Lord knows how many millennia working to prevent herself from falling to either madness or her own loneliness had not been easy, but she be damned if she let them disrupter her internal equilibrium. Still, pushing such thoughts back, she looked at the initial assault force that had landed on her Sanctuary as she watched others quickly join them via Drop Pods and landing craft, even as smaller machines creped outwards, searching for enemies and information.

As for the force itself, it seemed to be primarily made up of four types of infantry forces with a number of tracked tanks as back up along with four-legged walkers and a number of heavy hover tanks. The designs were unfamiliar to her, but that hardly mattered since she was sure that enough Plasma Pulses would reduce them to burning wrecks all the same. The first type of infantry she saw was the smallest, lighter armored ones that stood around 2.6 metres tall, each one seemed to have four arms with the main two armed with Matter-disruption melee weapons while the smaller, secondary pair seemed to either hold a single, rifle-like weapon or a pair of smaller, SMG-like weapons in armored hands. Three blades came from the spine and shoulder blades of each of them, the edges of which glowed bright red and black as her sensors worked to determine what those weapons were. It didn't take long to discover that they had apparently figured out Nano-edge weapons, something that had merely been theory when she had last checked, with the only nanotech worth speaking about were Nanoforges and Self-repair systems.

The second type of infantry was bigger, 3.3 metres tall and it's armored hands were cradling a massive rifle that looked to be a cross between some kind of kinetic projectile launcher and a Fusion Beam cannon. Another projectile launcher stood on one shoulder while the other one held what looked like a missile launcher of some description. A quick scan failed to show much of use since, it seemed, these models were equipped with a passive stealth system to prevent the enemy from scanning them, but she could tell that all these types of infantry were equipped with Gravity-hyper sheath Shielding systems.

The next type of infantry, however, were massive, almost four metres tall, covered in thick armor and looking very much like miniature walkers as they encircled a central point at the centre of their initial landing zone. She saw no weapons in their hands as she saw at least four pairs of arms, a single primary set coming from the shoulders while two secondary pairs sprouted from the angular chest plate and backpack respectively while another pair of arms sprouted from the shoulders, ended with mantis-like Nano-edge blades. If the other types of infantry were difficult to read, then these ones were virtually impossible to detect beyond picking up slight gravitational distortions from their presence, yet nothing else. It was as if their armor absorbed any kind of energy sent at them.

Finally, the last type of infantry they had sent to her Sanctuary was a singular one, three metres tall and covered in armor that created the figure of a Humanoid being in contrast to the inhuman figures of the other infantry types as she scanned it only to get the same result as those of the third type. It was a mystery, but she was willing to bet that it was some kind of tactical commander unit given the way it was guarded by the heaviest of units, clearly, this one was to be a priority target as she sent her instructions out to her puppets.

Through the Warp, her powers flared as her instructions were carried to her Puppets, she felt their acknowledgement before smiling even as she thought she felt something during the flash message.

She dismissed it easily enough, it was probably some Warp predator that had gotten too close, probably getting curious, but that hardly mattered to her.

It would not have been the first time that she had been forced to fight off a Warp predator for one reason or another.

 **XXX**

The peace that followed our initial landing lasted less than three minutes.

Said peace was ended when I felt it, a wave of energy singing through the Warp, it was a change in the background, but I still felt it in such a way that I knew that something was coming, along with seeing the source of it as I felt it start then stop abruptly just as it passed the upper limits of the 'atmosphere' of the planet-construct. A moment later, status reports started flooding back to me as I translated them and read them at the speed of thought.

The Vorax scouts were being destroyed, the ones farthest out were destroyed almost instantly while those closer to the FOB that had been set up had between thirty and 120 seconds before they, too, were destroyed by a tide of fire. Still, they served their purposes well and gave me what I needed to know as I looked around briefly, taking in the current state of the FOB. Walls had been raised, Wall segments upgraded with Nanoweave technology with no walkways atop them, but each wall mounted dozens of weapon turrets, each turret usually carrying at least two lighter weapons in a twin-linked configuration while a single heavy weapon sat between them. In most cases, this came in the form of a pair of Heavy Bolters with a smart ammo feed system that could supply the weapon with either Nano-Shredder, Abrathic/Ruiner, Kraken Penetrator, Radium or what was considered as Proto-Banestrike bolts. The heavy weapon, in turn, was either a Matter-conversion weapon of some kind or a Neutron-Pulse weapon, the latter of the two being far more common for the simple reason that it was easier to make and maintain. Within the FOB, I saw two landing zones, each with a Stormbird currently holding station within them, a total of five thousand Jotunns at the ready, two thousand of which belonged to my Sharpened Shield, dozens of War Robots and a few combat vehicles, though, those vehicles were mostly still being unloaded from Stormbirds.

Regardless, the fact of the matter was that the enemy was coming and, whether or not we were ready was no longer up for debate since we'd just have to find out the hard way. A Thought-command was enough to sound the alarm, alerting every Jotunn of the situation as the mental screech resonated within the Field for moments before fading, being used to attract their attention as I patched into the visual feed of another Vorax, one that had been placed on the rubble of one of the orbital guns. This, in turn, gave me a rather damned good view of the battlefield that was soon to burst into flames.

Not to mention giving me a clear view of the enemy forces.

They walked up and across the metal-clad surface, calmly walking up ramps that lead deeper into the planet-sized construct and, I noted, they were all fully armed and armored. Each one of the foot soldiers looked like a man-sized version of the nameless, Decepticon Protoforms that you often saw fighting for the Decepticons during the movies. They were covered in black armor, virtually no uniformity in any of them besides the fact that most of them seemed to be sticking to the basic idea of a Humanoid form. Hands had been retracted and allowed for weapons to unfold as I glanced at them, trying to work out what they were as I let my powers play, undoing a part of the mental leash that floated around inside my mind.

The information I got was... Scattered, for lack of a better word. They had been built by another Psyker, a Technomancer like me, of that, I was sure. The Warp signature of this Technomancer literally infused every last speck of metal on the planet, meaning that using my powers to alter the world around me would be difficult. However, I had already sent out messages to enforce that we weren't going to be using our Psychic abilities, if only because I didn't want any scouts becoming easy targets by simply tracing the echo of them using their abilities. Looking around, I could already see things shifting into place as Warforged checked their weapons once more, many of them quickly moving to find cover and positions that they could use to shoot from.

I said nothing to stop them, especially since the machines had brought massive, wolf-like machines with heavy weapons mounted on their backs. I made sure to set those as priority targets, especially since, if we were pushed off before we really got going, then getting back on to the planet would only be more difficult.

" _It is time._ " I stated as I turned to my Praetorians and simply nodded once. They knew what needed to be done as I smiled, drawing my own weapons of choice as I got ready for what was to come.

 **XXX**

She had to admit, when they had decided to fight her Puppets, they had definitely given a good showing of themselves as they pushed hard and fast even as wave after wave of Puppets and Wolf-Puppets rushed at the defenses of the FOB they had built. Turret-equipped walls spat death into the sea of Puppets as they advanced, firing in kind and raising their weapons, intent on taking their own deadly harvest of their forces before being destroyed.

Her Puppets were basic things, lightly armored by the standards she had grown used to long before her current situation and armed with anything from Energized-Plasma Pulse Rifles, Fusion cannons, or even primitive Railguns. Along with that, each and every one of them was armed with a mass-produced Gravitic Sheath to act as a primitive Shield to extend the life expectancy of these cannon fodder-like units as long as they could go. The Wolf-Puppets were little better, simply armed with more weapons mounted on a turret around a quarter of the way up the back from the hind legs, usually in the form of miniature Dumb-fire rockets armed with Plasma warheads, Kinetic Gatling cannons and Ion beamers.

And, with how she had built them, they could be, and were, mass produced in vast numbers, through equally vast numbers of factories that poured out more of her Puppets every minute. Still, even if they didn't know it, they were actually putting up a decent fight as their FOB held against several waves rather impressively.

First and Second Types manned the walls, armed with a mix of hybrid projectile launchers, Grav weapons and heavy, twin-linked Fusion cannons, not to mention they were being aided by the turrets that encircled them. Honestly, such load outs and even the layout of the FOB itself looked rather standard to her, almost an exact replica of such FOBs that she had long since gotten used to living in as a part of her career during major campaigns. Still, just because the design brought back memories did _not_ mean that it wasn't annoying how well they were pulling it off, she knew how effective such tactics were, having used them herself, so she knew that that base was not going to fall easily. She looked onwards as one of her Dolls landed high above the battlefield, allowing her a bird's eye view of the battle as she noticed that other armies of puppets were approaching, having climbed out of the deeper levels of her Sanctuary in order to be of aid rather than simply being allowed to rust away in cold storage, especially when there was a war going on.

Looking down, it was clear that their commander unit, the Forth Type, knew this as well as she watched it turn, it's head twitching in various directions as she assumed it connected to other battle-feeds to receive new information. Moments later, it's gaze snapped straight towards her Doll, the bird-like machine coming directly into the sight of the commander unit they had put in charge before it seemed to tilt it's head for a moment before turning towards the Third Types, merely nodding for some bizarre reason as she watched curiously. Warfare was all based on what you knew, what your enemy knew and what either side didn't know, so the question now was this: What did the Forth Type know that she did not?

It turned out that what she did not know was the full extent of the Nanotech systems built into the Third Types as the surface of the Primary arms seemed shift and alter, ridges forming before spikes formed from those ridges, spiraling around the tops and sides of the arms. The entire process taking less than thirty seconds before all fifty of the Third Types threw their hands into the air a moment later, suddenly, the spikes came loose as they fired themselves into the air before splitting apart and with miniature engines igniting and pushing the small devices further before they angled themselves back for the ground. She felt her eyes widen in surprise as the devices impacted the approaching armies before she felt it, the shift in Matter to Anti-Matter that resulted in massive amounts of energy being unleashed at once as her Puppets were utterly annihilated. Metal was burned and melted with every detonation, radiation bursting with every impact, making it nearly impossible to send ground forces through the most direct route towards them, she quickly connected with her Seekers and ordered them to begin strafing runs on their FOB. The Seekers were already on approach, it had merely been a case of the Puppets arriving before them, leading to the initial attack lacking air support.

However, even as she did so, her mind was filled with a single image.

It was the image of the Forth Type looking straight at her Doll, even as the ground beneath him threatened to break from the lack of support, his head tilted to one side in a mockery of amusement. She grit her teeth, when this was all over, she promised herself that she would resurrect the Command unit, if only so that she could rip it apart with her bare hands, if only for the pleasure of doing so.

Still, she knew such things were a long way off. She smiled at that, it hardly mattered anyway, her forces were infinite, theirs, on the other hand, _were_ finite.

 **XXX**

These machines were impressive, but also pitiful, in many respects.

Oh, they were advanced, don't get me wrong. They were built from a Black Plate derivative that, while not as good as the stuff used by my Legion or the Aesir, was still impressive in just how resilient it was to taking damage. They moved using some kind of electro-magnetic servos, vastly different than a normal motor since the damned things were basically a one ball inside of another with no contact between the two elements as they moved through electromagnetic fields mixed with some kind of gravitational manipulation to keep them aligned, even though the distance between these two components could be measured in nanometres. The machines had brains, pico-engineered crystals encased within a shock absorbing gel with qualities similar to Aerogel, acting both as a heatsink for the processors along with protecting it from impacts. The computer and the body actually didn't have a physical connection, using some kind of laser-fiber optic connection through the gel to communicate while power was supplied to the machines via a miniature Gravity-enhanced Fusion reactor that used gravity manipulation technologies to safely contain much greater amounts of Fusion energy than they had any right to.

Still, for all that, the machines barely knew how to move, let alone carry out complex tactical maneuvers without direct oversight. Oh, they could move, with much greater speed and grace than any Human in existence, they could run, jump and climb with ease, even aim to hit a target from kilometres away, but they were little more than fancy puppets. Each one of the machines was little more than a mindless automata, needing constant instructions in order to function, though, not on the same level as Imperial robots used by the mainstream Mechanicum. They merely needed to be told what to attack and where to move, they carried out the rest themselves.

However, even after two weeks of fighting, such things were of little danger to the Jotunns of my Legion. The first three days had shown that they were no threat unless in massive numbers as even Warforged could rip right through them with ease, Immortals and Praetorians hardly even paid them any mind.

Still, for the last three weeks, things had progressed rapidly in a constantly shifting, changing and evolving environment that was, officially, the longest conflict that my Legion had taken part in to secure a single planet. Most Xenos planets folded within a few days with the, now, second longest campaign lasting less than a week and a half, a result of the Humans of _that_ particular world using a strange combination of rapid cloning technologies mixed with advanced genetic engineering designs, creating hordes of barely sentient gene-forged beasts with armored hides as strong as Ceramite.

The war for Cybertron, however, was different. My Legion and the natives fought each other daily, usually adapting, changing and augmenting themselves within a matter of days, or even hours, to either exploit a newly discovered weakness or to remove one in turn. In the beginning, for instance, the machine-puppets had been vulnerable to intense Gamma radiation emissions, the emissions working to critically damage their central processors and causing them to fall like puppets with their strings cut. The enemy Technomancer retaliated by insulating their processors with some kind of semi-organic material that actively absorbed Gamma radiation and used it to feed its own continued existence, as well as hardening the processors even though the Puppets ended up getting bigger heads due to losing some of their data storage and required bigger crystals to make up for that. A few days later, the enemy started replacing the normal machines with more golem-like constructs fielding heavier armor, stronger weapons and more powerful limbs, my own Legion countered this by introducing more potent armor penetrating weapons since the old ones were losing their effectiveness.

When the conflict reached a point where the enemy was beginning to push us back, we changed the game when we started cracking the planet open, peeling back the layers of metal that made up Cybertron in order to get closer and closer to the source of the Psychic emissions, the Technomancer. The Technomancer responded to this by having the puppet machines begin to fortify every layer of the planet, with positions where we could rip the plate off by targeting support columns being hollowed out and turned into fortresses in their own right. In response, my Legion started being more liberal with the application of heavier firepower, Matter-conversion weapons along with Neutron-Pulse weapons being used heavily while Proto-Banestrike weapons had become the order of the week within my Legion, if only to ensure maximum penetration due to the fact that the Technomancer liked sending her Puppets at my Legion in hordes.

Even then, as I looked out over another battlefield, as upgraded Xiphon and strange craft similar to the Crybertronian fighters from the second Transformers movie danced around one another in the skies, trying to shoot each other down, I knew that things were soon going to come to their inevitable end. Looking down at the battlefield, I saw my Legion advance, Immortals at the front with modified, tower-style, Power Shields at the head as those at the front held massive Mist Blades in their other hands. Those behind them, in a double line of Immortals, held their Ravager Rifles at the ready, spraying the world around them down with a hail of shells that left anything they targeted dead. Behind that, Warforged advanced as they occasionally managed to fire off the occasional shot from their own weapons as they advanced on the final pillar of this Layer, Anchors had already been placed on it to allow the ships in, the now lower, orbit to pull it up, allowing them to take it apart.

Now, all that was left was to rip the damned thing apart.

Maulers were advancing as well, their weapons having been upgraded as they got rid of the Volkite weapon and replaced with two new weapons, a Particle cannon of great size, capable of ripping matter apart at the atomic level, and another weapon, a massive Grav-cannon that was used to sweep aside entire hordes of machines by having them crush themselves under their own weight. The Technomancer had been trying to get around that by making the machines that were sent at us lighter and stronger, but that only made them easier to deal with as they had less potent armor, turning them into glass cannons.

" _Move the second line forwards and begin the cutting process as soon as possible, we're popping the cap of the next Layer with this, make sure that all the Warforged are ready for that._ " I spoke through the web of connections, directing my orders at Marteleus, who sent his acknowledgement of them as he worked to direct the various formations of soldiers. Marteleus was a brilliant commander, a good warrior, but he truly shined when directing the warriors under him, it was for that reason that he was not part of my Praetorians, which would have been a waste of his abilities it would have just marked him out as a target when he stood alone while directing other Warforged. The Praetorians were my bodyguard in much the same way the 300 Companions of the Emperor were his primary bodyguard, they were to always stand by me and never leave my side, something that I knew would have made it difficult for Marteleus do if he was to be able to take command if I was absent.

" _Understood, Lord Primarch. Zeta Group reports they are in position with their Maulers at the ready, Nemesis tanks have been deployed to cover their flanks while their sternguard reports that the enemy has apparently deployed hidden cashes of machines behind us for when we begin the Cutting. Initial Casualty reports are just coming in._ " I sent my acknowledgement as I looked back to the battlefield, seeing the machines as they ran towards a heavily entrenched force of Immortals, who had mag-locked their Power Shields together as walkways unfolded from them as they bolted themselves into the ground, forming into a low Shield wall in two staggered lines. Immortals quickly manned the walls as I watched, racking the land before them as machines continued to fall, the Wolf-like machines at the head of the approaching army being the first to fall as they were blasted to pieces by missiles, Neutron-Pulse lances, Bolt shells and the Warp only knew what else.

" _Have the Aesir deploy as sternguards to reinforce the breach and help clean up the hidden machines._ " I ordered as the words carried through the Field, resulting in such actions happening instantly as Sky Cranes already started moving into position. Barely a minute later, Aesir were raining down from the sky, their own armors upgraded to have similar technologies to those of the Warforged, but of lesser quality due to having less space to work with. They weren't as durable as the Jotunns, and it showed when their Shields failed to take hits that Jotunn armor wouldn't even notice, Plasma blasts from the machines killing the Light and Heavy Aesir infantry quickly, but not quickly enough as Silverbacks came into play. The Mechs had enough armor and Shielding to stand up to even a Warforged with a chance of winning as they fired from triple-barreled Gatling Plasma cannons and ripped into the machine hordes. Marauders were set down behind the Immortal lines before deploying themselves into field artillery and began raining hell down upon the enemy.

Cluster munitions had been considered the best option for dealing with the massed machines, usually a mix of Nano-shredder munitions and Matter-Conversion warheads, and they worked rather well at that. I watched as firing solutions were made, details taken into account before the artillery of the Aesir opened up on the enemy forces. My own sensors reported the radiation coming back as I turned my sights towards the Pillar holding the last section of the Layer hanging over my head, the earlier warning of radiation being discarded as I knew it was of little importance.

The Pillars had always been massive things, this one was no exception to that. At two kilometres wide and over thirty tall, the damned thing was a solid reminder that a great many things can be built if the builder had both a lot of time and a lot of workers. Not only that, but the damned thing was made with a core of solid Black Plate over a kilometre across while the outer layers were made from a honeycomb mesh of Black Plate construction filled with some kind of crystal gel that would expand into any damage done before hardening in seconds to a strength as Adamantium. It made destroying the Pillars difficult, but not impossible, as had been proven countless times before. Looking around, I saw the six groups advancing into position as the Maulers locked themselves into firing position and began the process of realigning their Particle cannons, turning them into what my Legion had happily named as Particle Rippers.

" _Lord Primarch! The Aesir have begun to fortify the breach as instructed, Wall Segments are inbound along with Raxus machines. We will be able to begin the Cutting soon._ " Came Marteleus's latest report as I watched the six pairs of Maulers moving into position, forming a rough hexagon around the pillar, each one knowing where the others were as to prevent friendly fire, though, such things in this case were unneeded as they angled their guns downwards, towards the base of the Pillar. I smiled at that, it was almost time to break open the top of this thing. Still, even as that happened, I saw the Aesir moving around, deploying Wall segments as Raxuses moved around, clearing heavier enemy forces from their positions while Specters started gathering in Hunter-Killer cohorts before heading out into the metal jungle that made up each and every layer of this planet-construct.

I gave such things only a side thought as my focus remained upon the Maulers as they angled their weapons to the ground, powering them up before opening fire as beams of energized particles slammed into the Layer below them, at the root of the Pillar as they started carving a hexagonal hole into the ground. Layers were often kilometres thick, filled with any number of facilities, hundreds of metres of armor and countless Void Shields overlapping each other in a complex network that definitely could _not_ be very efficient. I watched as molten metal was burned away as the beam continued to heat up, melt then vaporize the metal of the next Layer as I quickly cast my mind back into the Sea of Souls.

The Technomancer was close, barely a few hundred Kilometres from us as we looked to remove the capstone, as it were, of the next layer.

It took hours to do, but it was soon done as the Maulers stopped their fire before I watched in silence as the pillar trembled before it started to rise. It was being pulled upwards, along with all that was on it, secured in some way or another for later inspection as I watched with interest as the next layer was revealed, light pouring into the artificial darkness of the next Layer.

I frowned slightly as I looked down the hole. The next layer was definitely different than any previous Layer. Rather than a spanning city-scape in a lightless existence, this one reminded me of a scene from the anime movie 'Blame!' that was released back in May 2017. The entire Layer seemed to be made up from dozens of blocks, all forming together into a grid with each block being over two hundred kilometres wide and long while each block, based on the abyss-like gaps between them, must have been at least five hundred kilometres deep. Even from the distance I was at, I could see the turrets and weapons all pointing upwards as I glanced around, also spotting more guns mounted on the sides before I frowned, such weapons would not have the firing arcs to hit them as they descended before understanding hit me and I smiled. The weapons were not to hit them as they moved to this layer, but to make it impossible for them to advance down the sides of any of the towers without taking a significantly large area since such weapons seemed to be mounted in such away as to allow them to fire at a target at least several blocks down any 'street'.

A moment later, my powers kicked in as I removed the leash on said ability, my mind suddenly being bombarded with information, I tilted my head to one side at what I saw, it _was_ rather interesting, if nothing else.

The new Layer was actually a remodeled version of the original layer, built roughly a week ago using machines that I immediately named Builders, massive skeletal machines that functioned like mobile Nanoforges with limited range, apparently based on the tech used by my own Legion since the execution of the design had many similarities while the actual tech was vastly different. The reason for the name was due to their own likeness when compared to the Builders of 'Blame!', though with cyan eyes rather than amber ones, which was interesting to note since every machine that had been encountered thus far had cyan eyes. Looking deeper, I saw what each Block was meant as; each Block was a fortress in its own right, with built-in factories that pumped out a virtually endless stream of machines from factories while also using vast generators to power even vaster numbers of defenses that were designed to be the biggest meat grinder in existence. I smiled at that, it explained a few things that had happened over the last week, if only because it meant that these things were going to offer my Legion further chances for evolution and advancement, a trial through blood as it were.

" _Marteleus. Gather the Unbroken and prepare them for a shock assault, Pattern 23-Gamma._ " I stated as I already considered it, such an assault required the construction of spacial warping devices of limited utility, capable of only functioning for a limited time, they were niche devices that burned themselves out with every use. Built like a gateway, they caused distances to be reduced to nothing as stepping through the gateways allowed for one to instantly move to the point where these things had been aimed. A previous example being where my Legion had used one to step from one planet in a solar system to another, catching an enemy force completely by surprise.

" _As you command, Lord Primarch._ " I heard him speak, however, before he cut the line, I spoke up once more.

" _Have the assault delayed by a few days, however, as I wish to make sure a few things will work... Also, I believe it is time for another history lesson._ " I informed cheerfully as I felt his confusion.

" _My Lord?_ " Marteleus replied, confusion clear in his tone even as I heard his excitement at the thought of learning something new.

" _Today... I'm going to be teaching you why Sir Isaac Newton was considered the deadliest Son of a Bitch in space._ " I stated with a smile.

Just because the Technomancer wanted me and my Sons to walk through a Meat Grinder, that did _not_ mean I was willing to happily oblige said Technomancer.

 **XXX**

Looking through the optics of a dozen guns, she grinned as she saw them looking down at what she considered her Line of Absolute Defense, having built it as quickly as she could have done within the last week with the help of her new Builders. If there was one thing she had to thank them for, even grudgingly so, it was the fact that they had given her _so many_ ideas to integrate with her own forces, increasing the chances of her own forces being able to push them back. Granted, their fleet around her Sanctuary still needed to be dealt with, but she was confident those vessels could be dealt with in time, especially since her economy was still working at maximum capacity.

Matter Forges worked around the clock to produce a steady flow of hydrogen that was then feed to Nanoforges, which then turned it into whatever was required of them. Her Builders were connected to this network and were working constantly to increase the defenses of her Inner Sanctum, created an impressively deep Defense in depth even as they grew closer to her Inner Sanctum at the very core of her Sanctuary. Really, they were only a few dozen hundred kilometres away from her own position, but she wanted to ensure that they were unable to reach her, if only due to her own... _Experiences_ with _them_.

Suddenly, she was brought out of her thoughts as her orbital scanners detected movement, having had to rebuild them multiple times after each Plate was removed, causing her Sanctuary to shrink around her as she ground her teeth together in rage and hatred. Looking at the sensors, she couldn't help but finch back from what she saw.

She checked the readings again with a command that was at the speed of thought before her eyes widened in shock and surprise at this, having not considered what was happening now.

One fragment of one of the first Plates was moving, held firmly between a dozen of their ships, it had been moved well beyond the immediate area around her Sanctuary before it came back into view, moving at a significant velocity towards her Sanctuary before the ships guiding it moved away. A quick mental simulation caused her eyes to widen at what was going to happen when that impacted, moments later, she activated what few guns she had that she believed could have made a difference.

Deep down, she knows it is a futile gesture as the billions of tons of stripped materials slam into the Plate above her Defense line before carrying onwards, their leading edge burning with excess heat as it pushed through, widening the multi-kilometre wide hole to even larger proportions as the plate fragment just kept on going until it slammed into her Defense line. Unstoppable force met immovable object, both being heavily damaged and crushed and melted by the sheer forces being put into play by either side as she quickly started shifting the focus of her Inner Sanctum's Gravity Engines, if only to deflect the impact as she knew what was happening before her worst fear was made manifest.

Her Defense line was breached.

The massive metal fragments smashed through her defenses as they kept on going, creating a hole in the shape of a crest that was over three hundred kilometres across, exposing the surface of her Inner Sanctum to them, if only just. Still, she wasn't given a chance to recover from what had just happened as more sensors reports came to her, telling her of how gravity was being warped and distorted before she accessed one of the few optics that still remained within the Defense line that still worked, at least, within that section of the Line.

What she saw caused her eyes to widen even further than before for what seemed like the dozenth time within as many moments.

The Forth Type was standing at the edge of the defense line, looking straight at her Inner Sanctum as Third, Second and Third Types piled in around him. She had already sent out orders for any and all Puppet in the Line that was already present to make for the new gap as Builders were dispatched to rebuild and repair the damage. Factories across the line were also at work, pumping out more Puppets as she saw the Commander of their forces crouch down as he looked at her Inner Sanctum, his head tilted to one side before it stood back up.

And jumped.

 **XXX**

I could feel the Technomancer, I could have done that from the furthest Layer of the planet-construct, but such things had required effort and focus.

Now, however?

Now that I hovered over the centre of the Technomancer's domain, I could feel the power of the Psyker as I looked down from the edge of the final Layer.

Her final fortress at the core of this place was small, a ten kilometre orb of metal separated from the final layer by hundreds of kilometres. The orb itself was utterly smooth, lacking any kind of outward decorations beyond the silver colour of the construct as I wondered what I would find within. I felt the pulse of energy that followed moments later, confirming the Technomancer's presence even further, but also sending out the command of the Xeno Psyker to the rest of the puppet-machines. Already, I could feel the machines stirring from their sleep and rising, making ready to attack my Legion as I considered my options.

Attacking the Psyker, and killing said Psyker, was probably the fastest and most efficient method of ending this conflict, however, I knew that none of my sons, even my Praetorians, were strong enough to survive such a battle. Hell, I knew that none but myself could even reach the Technomancer, the Domain of the Psyker being infused with power and would only respond to the Psyker in question, I could draw upon the Warp to even the playing field, but I knew that, in the centre of the Technomancer's power, such things would be easier said than done. Already, my mind considered a dozen other options before discarding them all, there was no other path to victory, not one that wouldn't leave thousands of my Sons dead.

And considering the fact that the Unbroken now numbered only ten thousand strong from the ninety thousand that they had over three weeks ago, I was unwilling to risk what remained of my Legion and only watch them get killed. At least if they remained behind, I knew that they would be able to handle themselves, even as space was twisted to allow for more soldiers to come down from the Layers above, even as more were deployed from the fleet in orbit, those few that had remained behind in order to act as reserves were being drawn into the fight. Turning to my Praetorians, I stood from a crouch by the edge of the gaping abyss leading into the centre of the Technomancer's power before turning back to my Sons.

" _Hold the line here. Ensure that none of the Puppets follow me while I deal with the Psyker responsible for this._ " I stated as I saw them hesitate. I knew what my Praetorians would do, loyalty to me winning over their feelings of refusal as they nodded after moments of hesitation. The hesitation of the Immortals and the Warforged was longer, but it came to the same result as they quickly gathered and stations themselves around the hole, forming into a line of resistance as I turned back to the hole. My eyes closed for a moment, designs flashing through my mind at Transhuman speeds before something twitched in my armor, space shifting and changing as components forged themselves into existence, subtly drawing into spare materials as I took a single step forwards.

Before I felt gravity at work on me.

The effect only lasted an instant before I felt the effects of gravity end, slamming into the shimmering surface of the Orb even as machinery burned out and I activated other components within my armor, black swarms of Mist gathering around me, making me look like a living shadow as matter around me was eaten alive. Gravity Engines kept my gravity pointed down even as I felt the Technomancer reacting to my presence, metal shifting as turrets formed and massive walls of Power Field-coated metal came at me. The Power Fields were strong, coursing with power as the walls tried to crush me, but I slipped through them, taking advantage of the brutal fashion the Technomancer was working in to slip through the cracks.

I felt the Technomancer trying to escape as it moved further away, staying within the sphere, but with its power slowly draining from the surrounding metal even as I pushed forwards. A shift within the Gravity Engine on my back increased the rate I was falling towards my target, I sacrificed a few useless machines to add more nanomachines to the Mist, and coated my armor in a dual layer of protection. The first was a secondary Power Field, ripping through matter as I plunged head first into the Technomancer's lair while the other was much more esoteric in nature. The surface of my armor shifted, a change only aided by the Warp allowing the surface of my armor to changed so that, even though it appeared smooth, it was made entirely from edges that hummed with Transonic power. The net result of these changes was that I quickly caught up with the Technomancer as I fell into a massive chamber at the centre of the Orb.

And then I saw the Technomancer.

It was strange, though no surprising, to see the form of the being before me, after all, I had been fighting Transformer-like puppets for the last three weeks, what was Quintessa's twin when compared to a normal day in this hell hole?

 **XXX**

Seeing it in person, she couldn't help but move back as the Forth Type landed in her Chamber with a _thump_ , standing back up as it's form was shrouded with a mist of constantly shifting nanomachines. It was an impressive design and an equally effective weapon, but she had little doubt that it would be damaging itself to keep such a thing up, even as she screamed her fury at the Forth Type for violating her Inner Sanctum.

A wave of a hand summoned a blast of Fusion energy that fired towards the Forth Type, vaporizing a section of the ground as I leapt out of the way even as she summoned her Guardian-Puppets, twelve of her strongest creations as they appeared, looking like primitive knights clad in plate mail armor. Each of them advanced, screaming warcries at the Forth Type in a machine language that she knew would be as insulting to them as possible. The Forth Type looked up at them just in time to avoid the first one, it's own weapon a copy of their Nano-edged blades as it attacked the Forth Type.

Unfortunately, the Forth Type proved itself as skilled as her Guardian-Puppets, if not more so as it dodged, jumped over the Puppet before grabbing it's head and pulling it off even as nanites swarmed the remains and started devouring it whole. The head was the used as an improvised club to destroy the processing units of another three of her Guardians as the Forth Type continued its advance on her, her mind working overtime to figure out some method of destroying it even as another of her Guardians unleashed a wave of Plasma upon it as it's sword transformed into a high-yield Phased Plasma Projector. The Forth Type reacted instantly even as it was caught up fighting another two of the Guardians, a weapon quickly forming in one hand as it raked it's clawed hands over the chest plate of one Guardian while the other was the first to fall to this new weapon.

From the twin barrels of this weapon, unstable beams of purple energy burst from it and connected with another of her Guardians, bypassing it's Gravity Sheath altogether before she detected something happening as matter was swiftly changed to energy in an uncontrolled, but contained, reaction as all that was left was a scorch mark on the ground. Quickly, the Forth Type moved and engaged the remaining six Guardians, a sword extending from it's off hand as it fired it's Matter-annihilation weapon twice more, aiming for her, but being saved by a dodge and raising a metal shield between herself and the beam. By the time the shield had been destroyed, she looked back and found that two of her Guardians had been killed while a third was in the process of being ripped apart by what looked like a nanite infection while a forth was held in the clawed hand of the machine as she felt what was happening to it. The forth of her Guardians was rusting, something she didn't think was possible for her substitute Black Plate as she watched it rust and corrode in the nearly-airless vacuum as an entropy field worked away on the materials at an accelerated rate. Soon, the forth machine was dead, it's head and most of the upper torso simply gone and a line of rust being visible along the arms and half way down the stomach of the machine. Standing by her, her last two machines held a defensive posture as she glanced at both of them before nodding, she had an idea on how to stop this thing, but it was a gamble...

With a thought, she ordered them to advance, providing support to them even as she subtly worked her powers into surrounding area. Sure enough, the Forth Type responded in kind as it met their advance, attacking from range with its beam weapon before moving ahead to meet them as she directed them herself. The sword quickly returned to the Forth Type's hands as it's ranged weapon retracted slightly, giving it's hand more freedom to move as a great sword formed, the Disruption field augmented by vibration motors that fought against the technologies of her own Guardians as it lashed out with a kick, snapping one in half even as it continued to dual the last of the machines ahead of her. Seeing an opening, she attacked, launching a blast of Psychically enhanced Fusion energy at the Forth Type as it was forced to move back, jumping back into the air as she smiled cruelly.

There!

In a moment, tendrils lashed out from the surrounding metal, the heads of each tendril covered in a cyan mist of nanites while their bodies were covered in Disruption fields as they flew towards the Forth Type with terrible speed. The Forth Type, living up to its earlier examples, twisted and slipped around, using some kind of personal Gravity Engine to help it evade some of the tendrils, most missing, but not all. They anchored it in the air, stabbing through armor plating and securing it's arms and legs, stabbing through the chest and into the right shoulder as it was suspended in the air, limbs drawn apart by the taut cable-like limbs as she looked at the machine with a smug smirk on her face.

However, that soon disappeared, replaced with a frown as she glided closer. Within the Warp, she could feel something, it was miniscule, tiny, but she could feel it even as reports from the nanites that she had tasked to tear the Forth Type apart gave their initial findings to her. As she read it, her eyes shot wide as she quickly worked to undo the commands she had given to the Nanites, even as she moved rapidly on her own Gravity Engines to move closer to, what she had once believed to be a commander unit of the Men of Iron. Absently, she sealed the room, adjusting the atmosphere within the room to a comfortable mixture that she knew was similar to that of Terra millennia ago. Quickly, she reached the being before her, noting with no small amount of horror the blood that was dripping down the tendrils even as metal worked to seal the openings in the armor that she had torn open in her ignorance.

Old memories instantly came back to the foreground, remembering her own training as a field medic, among other things, during the Iron Wars, she began ordering the nanites to begin effecting repairs, aiding what looked like a complex web of nanites built into the man's flesh as she noted with some level of happiness the lack of Men of Iron designs, reassuring her that this was not some trick of theirs. A moment later, she received another report from the nanites that had sampled his blood as they helped him recover, the tendrils readjusting to merely hold him rather than impaling him as she didn't wish to be attacked, at least, not without trying to solve the misunderstanding that she had caused with her ignorance.

She felt dread and despair fill her as she considered the men and women that she must have killed, the soldiers slaughtered due to her own beliefs. Pushing those to the side, she started examining the man's DNA, curious as to what he was, her own bet being that he was a Blank of some kind, having worked with them on several occasions, but the feel of this one being different.

Therefore, one can understand her shock as she read the reports and found out that, not only was he not an Untouchable, but he was actually a _Psyker!_ Her head swam with the implications and disbelief as she couldn't fathom how such a thing was possible even as she looked at the clear sighs of his own Gene-engineered origins, all with a Human touch to them that was clearly without the ruthless efficiency of the Men of Iron. She smiled slightly at that, even as she felt the nanites in his body trying to force her out after being retasked, his injuries having healed to an extent, but he didn't have the raw numbers to push her out even as she advanced on him. She saw him moving back even as she moved forwards, trying to move away from her even as her hands moved to hold either side of his helmet with gentle, but firm grips. Pushing her power into the metal, she felt resistance from within, telling her once more of his nature as a being of flesh rather than metal as she quickly triggered a few nerves to distract him, pain flaring momentarily as a part of her felt remorse for what she was doing, but that part of her was quickly shut out, her wish to prove that this wasn't some kind of illusion being too strong.

With him distracted as he fought to push her out of his own body, working with surprising skill and creativity as she kept flooding more nanites into his body, she got her opening as her power filled the metal of the helmet before disconnecting it from the rest of the armor, pulling it free in a few moments and allowing her to see it's wearer.

He was different, his face being hard angles, silver eyes narrowed and glaring at her as his nose flared slightly with rage even as she noted the trail of blood that dripped down his chin, possibly remnants of the attack that had hit him in the chest. His hair was silver, like his eyes, and cut in a similar haircut as to what she would have expected among new recruits of the Terran Military. However, what held her the most was what she could glimpse within his eyes; She saw his emotions, they boiled under a sea of rage and hate, only contained by a cold and cunning intelligence that she knew was as inventive as it was dangerous.

The last three weeks proving as much.

Still, with that done, she slowly reached out even as he growled at her, ignoring him, she placed cold, metal hands on his cheeks as she moved closer to him, a beaming, relieved, smile on her face as she felt the warmth of his body even as she leaned her own forehead against his. For a moment, there was silence as he went stock still at the contact before she surprised him and spoke.

"Thank you..." She spoke, seeing his eyes widen as she spoke in Terran Trade Standard. "... For being Human..."

 **XXX**

AN: ... CLIFFHANGER 2: THE HANGING! MWHAHAHAHAHA...! I strike once more!

... Sorry, couldn't resist doing that. Well, now that I've got that out of my system, let me just say that, if you want to see what the Praetorians look like, look up 'Praetorian Guard Third Form' by PeterPrime on Deviantart. Anyway, as always, feedback is appreciated and I hope you enjoyed this!


	15. Wavering Convictions

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is purely for recreational purposes.

AN: first of all, let me reiterate this, like I've done with a few dozen different people that have PM'd me, though, that was probably my own fault for not saying something except in _another_ story I had posted.

... Looking at it like that, I can see how it looks and that it was stupid, sorry for that.

Anyway, this story is not dead, just got sidetracked with life and other ideas, but it is not, repeat _not_ , dead.

I had this chapter in the works before my muse hit a brick wall and I had to deal with work and college, but I've finished it and have it ready.

Probably. Hope you enjoy.

 **XXX**

She felt his shock as he looked at her with wide, unbelieving eyes before they narrowed slightly even as she pulled back from her contact with him. A gentle smile stayed on her face, relief still flowing through her even as she noted how he was looking at her in calculation, analysing her for something as she felt a slight shift in the Warp. It was tiny, but she felt it as her close contact with him allowed her some level of awareness to both his Soul and his Gift.

It was for that reason that she knew that she was drastically more powerful than he was, even though it seemed that he could use what little power he had with surprising skill and efficiency. She, on the other hand, had trained for millennia to acquire the skill and control she now possessed over her Gift, giving her yet another advantage over him if things came to blows, something she wasn't keen to allow after the first Human contact that she had experienced in millennia. Still, she would admit that the Phase-Iron layers mixed with the Psi-Jammers had made it rather difficult, making her wonder just how he had managed to use his abilities through that armor... Something to ponder at a later time.

"... Who... _What_ are you...?" She was surprised at his question, mostly just interested in the strange accent he held along with the guarded tone he held. It wasn't difficult to register what he was meaning since, in her current form, she didn't look very Human, then again, her Soul didn't look very Human considering what she had went through. Gliding back, she merely offered a slightly smile as a absent thought caused the flowing tendrils that made up her body below the waist to twist themselves into a pair of legs as metal shifted below her, quickly forming into a simple chair even as it rose to meet her, keeping her at the same level as her... Guest.

"I suppose that is a good question since neither of us introduced ourselves... I'll go first... My name is Julia Cormac, Senior WARMIND Magister within the 7th Mechanized Battalion, Terran Millitary. And you are?" She asked kindly as she allowed her machines to work even as she offered a smile, they continued to examine his flesh as a part of her continued to work up a complete profile of his genes, proof that he was both Human and had been created by Human hands. His nanites still fought back, but they were largely a non-issue due to the sheer numbers that she was flooding into him from his wounds, though, she felt his own power slightly, humming within what was left of his armor that he still controlled as she happily kept control of the armor around his neck, something he seemed all too aware of...

"... Marcus Grimm..." He growled out, his expression still glaring at her, though she could understand why as she beamed at that before nodding, pulling her power away from his armor even as a report came through, telling her that, no, he was not a creation of the Men of Iron. With a thought, the nanites came back, their job done as she doubted that he appreciated them running around in his body all that much, an act of good will on her part, probably one of many considering that this was a commander that had just lost over eighty thousand troops and was looking for payback.

"There, now that we've both been introduced to each other, let's move on to other matters." She stated as he continued to glare at her through slit-like, narrowed eyes. "First of all, I want to apologies about this whole mess... When I felt your ships coming here, I thought they were remnants of the Men of Iron since I couldn't detect any souls within the ships themselves. For that, I'm sorry, though I doubt that such things will make any real difference to you, will they?"

The man before her, Marcus, said nothing as he continued to glare at her, his face set and his mouth a thin line showing his acceptance of such things to be less than she had expected, but still understandable. Mentally, she sighed at that, her first contact with another Human and she gave the worst first impression with him, no doubt, believing that she might just be a Man of Iron herself, given her current appearance, again, that was understandable. A part of her even approved of his paranoia along with how she could feel him trying to thread his own power into the clamps holding him up, she pretended not to notice that as it would only drive him to further suspicion and heighten his guard. Quickly, she considered her options to at least _try_ and built some level of trust between them and avoid any further conflict, not that she was worried of such things, but she had her doubts about her capacity to win now that she considered the lengths that Humans had been willing to go to during the Iron War to prevent a Man of Iron victory at any stage.

Leaning down, she visibly sighed as she narrowed her options down to a single one, she grimaced slightly at it, as it was just as likely to make him want to attack her as it was to get him to, if not trust, at the very least be willing talk with her.

"... I'm sorry." She muttered before she moved forwards at surprising speed, leaving her chair as her hands clamped to either side of his face and head, her thumbs on his cheek bones as she saw his eyes rapidly widen before narrowing with emotions; rage, hate, surprise and an iron hard will to live all being present. In a moment, the former WARMIND Magister allowed her abilities to flow as they burst into his mind, sheer quantity making any kind of defense he put in place utterly worthless as she ignored any thoughts that she found, any memories as she was not interested, nor did she want to, see any of his own memories.

Instead... She was going to show him her own...

 **XXX**

I had to admit, when the self-proclaimed 'Human' launched 'herself' forwards and latched on to my face, I felt a bit of panic as I thought I was about to die before pushing it down even as I felt her power flooding into my mind. Putting up barriers proved to be as effective as a piece of wet toilet paper trying to stop a chainsaw, she broke them down, just flooding more and more power into my mind as I feared what might happen next, I feared that she would turn me into some kind of puppet as I knew it was possible. Heck, I knew that I had little chance fighting her off even as I pulled as much power in and tried forcing her out to no effect, the sheer difference in power levels showing as, while I was not even a hundredth of the Emperor's power, then again I doubted that anyone was, I knew I was pretty damned strong in my own right.

She had me beat by a order of magnitude at the very least.

However, one can imagine my surprise when, instead of doing as I expected and turning me into a good little puppet, she started flooding my mind with images, sounds and experiences, memories of her life as I suddenly started grasping them even as it felt like she was force feeding them to me. I saw her as she once was, a soldier of the Terran military even as I checked for either corruption or any kind of hints that the memories were false. I felt approval coming from her at that as I cautiously started looking at the memories in great detail, examining those that she sent to me in a peace offering to try and convince me of one thing or another. Through these memories, I saw the Iron War in all its _glory_...

...And all its horror...

I knew it had been bad, the things I had seen as a result of my own Post-cognition had shown me as much, but some of the stuff I saw would have sickened even the Dark Eldar of the current era, who thrived on pain and agony. I saw worlds being devoured by planet-eating machines to feed the industry of both sides, life being reduced to bio-sludge via some kind of Life-Eater Virus before being harvested and converted to nutrient-rich rations or as feedstock for clone soldiers. It was war on a scale that Humanity simply couldn't match in the current era with only the War in Heaven being worse, it was hell made manifest on the Materium.

And I watched from this woman's perspective as it continued for multiple centuries before her part in it came to an end... When she was captured by the Men of Iron and turned into a lab rat for their sick experiments...

I watched as she was twisted, changed and altered, her body altered and her soul shredded before being put back together with captured Eldar technologies that were barely understood, all for the purpose of creating a powerful, loyal, submissive and obedient servant with the Psychic powers that the Souless machines would never have. I felt my blood boil at that even as I took vindictive pleasure in watching her breaking free, apparently having grown too strong for them to contain before ripping the Men of Iron apart with her newly enhanced gifts around the same time that the Ruin Code was released. After that, I watched as Julia was left alone, utterly alone with nothing but a few half-corrupted databases, her own memories and no way of the space station, forcing her to wait, meaning that the only reason that she hadn't made it back to other Humans by now was simply because she was not able to. Normal thrusters would have taken too long, even with her new body she was unwilling to allow that, even if she _did_ know how to make them, all her knowledge as a WARMIND Magister was related to groundside operations, with only limited knowledge of space combat, or technology for that matter.

I watched as she built her new home, her Sanctuary, from scratch as she collected metal, formed it into the right patterns before she continued to build as I made a few mental notes about her own abilities that I watched. I felt her approval as she noticed that, I sent the mental equivalent of a glare her way, probably not the smartest of things to do when one considered the fact that she literally had me bent over a barrel, but I was passed caring at this point. The Magister seemed to have an impressive array of abilities not limited to Technomancy, but those abilities seemed much more limited as she seemed to focus more on her skills as a Technomancer than as anything else.

And it showed.

I mentally calculated her range at being ten kilometres in every direction if she wasn't focusing on something beyond that range, if she focused on constructing something, or getting it to move around, then she could probably do it at a range measured in _Light-years_. However, doing so apparently left her blind, deaf and dumb to what was going on around her physical body, at least in the psychic sense of things rather than in the purely physical since she still had eyes and ears. Though, throughout it all, I took note of a few machines to look into later, mainly because I wanted to see if I could make them myself, the 'Matter Forges' especially since they seemed to work to take energy before converting it directly into matter.

Eventually, the memories looped until we got right back to the present, she allowed them to play right up until her taking off my helmet, though I did send another glare at her, along with a rather impressive list of adjectives, nouns and verbs her way for that trick with the nanites in me. That had hurt like a fucking bitch, especially when she had flooded my system with nanites to the point that my Nanoweave just couldn't keep up, another terrifying experience, to be sure. The Magister just offered a mix of amused and apologetic feelings as the stream of memories finished before pulling back out, giving me enough time to feel her presence and know that what I had seen was true, even as I used a few Eldar methods to confirm it, before pulling back out of my mind as I snapped back to reality, my eyes blinking back into focus before I turned to look at her in her chair. She just sat there with a sad smile on her face, silent for a moment before she spoke.

"I hope that should be enough proof for you, Marcus Grimm, because I have nothing else to offer as proof..."

I took a moment to consider that before coming to a decision.

 **XXX**

Adam blinked, as did Magnus, as he felt the appearance of Marcus within the Imperial Palace, a single portal opening within the Palace, just outside the study they were in, in fact. Adam had to marvel at that, while Marcus wasn't as powerful as his Brother Magnus, and nowhere near as powerful as himself, his control was beyond impressive and his efficiency allowed him to pull off things that were far more complex than either the Cyclops or himself could manage. Still, Adam had to grumble slightly as he disliked how inefficient his own abilities were in comparison, Marcus's own techniques giving him insight into improvements that he could make, but his improvements still used too much brute force in comparison. Mentally, he sighed, maybe it was just something that this Son of his had been gifted at his creation, though he knew that control could always be improved with more practice, it was just a matter of finding the time...

"Father? What was that?" Magnus asked as he glanced towards the door, his other Brothers, Lion El'Jonson, Ferrus Manus and Vulkun, following his line of sight to look at the door. Magnus looked half curiously, half questioningly, his gaze shifting between him and Adam as Adam, in turn, smiled as the doors opened to reveal one of his Sons.

Marcus came into the room without any plump or ceremony, simply walking in as his silver eyes glanced around, taking in the room and the details of the inhabitants of it with surprising speed as Adam noticed the analytical stare of his Son. However, what caught him out the most was that Marcus had changed quite a bit in the last two years since the last time the Emperor had seen him. Gone was the old armor that he had worn, replaced with a complex suit of Power Armor that looked like a more futuristic version of the ancient suits of armor worn by the Knights of the Round. Thick plates covered his entire body while four spikes rose from each shoulder, a cloak of black material, embossed with the symbol of his Legion, falling down from one shoulder to cover his left arm while his walk seemed to have a slight limp in it even though Marcus seemed to cover it well. The small frown that covered his lips also attracted his attention towards his Son, even as he spotted the satchel that hung from his left shoulder.

"Father, I assume that these are some of my Brothers that have been rediscovered in my absence?" He asked as he bowed his head slightly before glancing around once more, Adam nodded at that as he stood up, along with the other Primarchs.

"Indeed, Marcus. Allow me to introduce you to your newest Brothers that have been returned to us within the last few years." Adam stated, rather happy with the stroke of luck that had lead to their return as he gestured to them in turn. "This, is Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons, Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Iron Hands, Lion El'Jonson, Primarch of the Dark Angels, and Vulkun, Primarch of the Salamanders."

Each of the named Primarchs greeted him in turn with a slight nod as they watched their newest Brother with various degrees of interest and caution, unsure of what to expect.

"A pleasure to meet you all, though, I'm afraid that this is not a social call, Father." Marcus said as he pulled his bag off of his shoulder before handing it to Adam. Adam frowned slightly as he took the bag, wondering about the contents before turning and placing it on a table in the middle of the room. His other Sons turned to the bag with interest and worry as Adam opened it before suddenly freezing stock still when he saw the contents, his eyes wide with horror and recognition as none of the others saw what was in the bag.

"... How many of _them_ survived?" Adam hissed, his rage booming through the room as all but Marcus took a step away from their Father, surprised at the sudden change in environment.

"One, Father. My Legion discovered it three weeks ago, and for three weeks, we have been fighting it with everything we have built over the last seven years... It was not an easy fight." Marcus stated simply as he glanced down to the ground while Adam turned to his Son, the air crackling around him as his eyes glowed with energy.

"Did you manage to kill it?" Adam asked, rage and hate boiling under the surface, however, those soon simmered down as he turned his focus to other things.

"At great cost." That was all Marcus said as his head remained tilted to the ground, his eyes glancing to the side as Adam's anger ablated at that, knowing that there was far more to it than that. The Second Legion had never shied away from casualties, even before they had been reunited with their Primarch. However, after being reunited with him, they had accepted a Darwinistic view of warfare and combat, seeing it as a way of evolution through battle and conflict, not only that, but they had developed a fatalistic view of themselves, believing that if they die in battle, then they clearly didn't deserve to remain in the Legion as they had grown stagnant. However, for Marcus to be so... _uneasy_ with saying how many were lost, that said much about the scale of what he had fought.

"How many?" Adam asked simply, his tone brokering no arguments, deflections or evasions as he turned to face his Son more fully. Marcus looked thoughtful for a moment as he seemed to consider things, weighing his options before his shoulders seemed to sag slightly before straightening once more.

"... Over eighty thousand Astartes and a few million soldiers of the Auxilleria Corps I have put together from the Aesir." Marcus said, his voice low and steady, but the loses were clearly something he was not used to, his Brothers looked on in surprise at the sheer scale of casualties, if only in Astartes as they considered the implications of that. Then again, they had yet to fully learn the difference between normal Astartes and those of the Second Legion, given that Adam knew that a single Warforged, as they were called, was more durable than the Terminators of any other Legion.

Still, the casualties boggled the mind...

"Over 88% of your Legion? What exactly did you face that would cause _that_ many casualties?" Adam asked, though he honestly wondered why he did so, he was more than familiar with what _they_ could do if unleashed on the battlefield.

"Their main infantry consisted of Massacres augmented with heavier Holocaust units. They had little in the way of air units beyond Killjoys, but they unleashed them in swarms so thick that they blocked out the light from the local star..." Marcus paused as he seemed to consider something before continuing onwards. "... There was also a Human colony, they had been used as breeding stock for the creation of Psykers, who were then cybernetically augmented to fight. The Humans were fanatically loyal to it after generations of indoctrination."

Adam grimaced at that, such a situation was a nightmare made manifest and would have been a meat grinder for any conventional forces that the fledgling Imperium could muster.

"And the planet?" Adam asked, curious about the final fate of those that had fought under _it_.

"Destroyed with a Two-stage Cyclonic Torpedo. The remains were gathered together and further destroyed with a number of experimental weapons before we left the system and set the Star to go Nova. We _did_ , however, manage to check with what remained of its databases before we destroyed it utterly." Marcus spoke, a feral smirk slowly making itself known on his face. "It was the last one." Adam breathed a sigh of relief at that, glad to know that the horrors of the past had been dealt with in such a way that the new Empire that he and his Sons were building were not going to be doomed by the mistakes of their ancestors.

"Good. Take your Legion and have them help secure the planets that have already been conquered and brought into Compliance until such a time that you believe them ready to resume their duties within the Crusade. I will send word to the Mechanicum on Mars, since I'm sure they will want to reward you for your efforts, as I will for removing a reminder of Humanity's darkest hour." Marcus nodded at that as he turned to leave, but stopped in front of Magnus as he looked at the red giant for a moment before his hand slipped under his cloak and pulled out a dataslate. Magnus accepted it with a curious look on his face as he silently asked his Brother what he had been given.

"Notes on my own research into the Flesh-change effecting your Legion, updated and translated so that they should be an easier read than the ones in the Palace Libraries." Marcus said before turning to the other Primarchs and nodding to them in turn.

"It was a pleasure meeting you all, but I'm afraid that I have much to attend to in order see my Legion return from this latest... _Incident_." Marcus commented before turning back to the door. He hadn't even made it five steps before space distorted, twisted and ripped open to form a new portal that Marcus stepped through without even a moment of hesitation. It slipped shut moments later as Magnus gazed at it with great interest, his one eye looking entranced by what he was seeing, Adam thought he looked much like a Cat that had just discovered the wonders of a ball of string.

"... If I may ask, Father, but what was in that bag?" Vulkun was the first to break the silence as his gaze turned and locked on to the Grox-hide satchel as Adam turned to his one of his Sons. "I will admit that I know little about the Second Legion beyond what has been spread by The Luna Wolves as well as my own Legion's interactions with them from almost three decades ago, but both of those sources gave an image of a Legion far more individually powerful than any other Legion. Especially so when one considered that each Legionnaire of the Second Legion seems to have made a point to constantly be upgrading and changing their personal equipment. So, I must ask Father, but what were they fighting?"

Adam considered the question for a moment, considering just what to tell his Sons as he looked at the contents of the bag before reaching in with a single armored hand. Lifting it up, he allowed it to come into the sight of his Sons as the light of the room along all the details of what they saw to come into clarity.

It was a head of some kind, covered with black and silver armor with a scorch mark clearly present on the upper right side that had taken away a third of the head, missing one of the three dull, red lenses that clearly functioned as eyes while the 'neck' had been cut by a blade as to allow it to be transported. A quick glance inside the remains of the head showed nothing but melted slag and scrap metal as they took in the unusual design before turning back to their Father, who only offered a sad smile.

"This, my Sons, was one of many, a reminder of Humanity's greatest mistake and the greatest horror of our Golden Age. It is all that remains of a foe that we created, a servant that turned against us through no fault of our own and something I hoped had been wiped out long ago. This, my Sons... Was a tool of the Men of Iron during their attempt to exterminate mankind... Down to the very last strand of DNA..."

Adam turned towards the point in the room where Marcus had vanished from and offered a smile.

"However, it seems that that particular memory is finally dealt with... At long last..."

 **XXX**

The ODIN Field had changed.

Anyone with a WARMIND Implant connected to it, any Aesir or Jotunn, could have easily determined that as it felt different, changed... Evolved...

Information flowed from being to being more easily, drawing in more related information as people quickly expanded their original skillsets with memories that were not their own. Energy was controlled, processed and then transferred to those who could best utilize it, mainly in the form of the Vanir of the Aesir and the Phase-Smiths of the Jotunns. Excess energy was stored, bottled up and carefully measured, ready to be called upon should the need arise that such a thing would be required as the excess emotional energy, matured in the souls of millions of individuals now thrived within the Field. However, even as the benefits were felt by those among the living, they were the first of many changes that were being made as the Field changed and evolved much like those that had recently been absorbed into it.

Once, a mass of formless energy that was commanded by a single intelligence that functioned as the unconscious intelligence of a whole race, the Field gained a new aspect deep within a sea of swirling, silver light. Inside this space, orbs of light moved around freely as streams of information passed freely between them, ideas, concepts and emotions at their most basic, but also their most comprehensive as they made communication of more complex ideas child's play. For those of the Aesir within this new aspect of the Field, they saw it as a form of rest, a way to train themselves and wait for a call, a call to war, should the Great Father ever need them at his side. Even then, they didn't stop working to master their new powers as the powers of the Valhalla, this aspect of the Field, were made ready for them as they crafted new forms for themselves. Most worked around an immaterial clock to build new forms they could summon at will, armored forms wielding weapons of pure emotion and the primal substance of the universe itself.

Deep within Valhalla, others, Jotunns and the eldest of the Aesir, studied information as it passed through the Field, learning and debating many things as they, in turn, used that same information as a means of evolution. Dozens of souls poured over every shred of information they could get as they worked to learn as much as they could about the current situation within Real space, looking over after-action reports, helmet footage and designs of weapons, they worked to aid their living counterparts.

As the changes happened to the Field, the Domain continued to pour out dozens of files that were then logged and stored within the network of the Field, dispatched to those that could best utilize them as they slipped into the minds of Jotunns and Vanir, due to their own Psychic gifts allowing them to retain the information from within the every growing sea of Souls that was the ODIN Field. Dozens of weapons, and millions of variations for those same weapons were created, examined, tested through simulations and discarded at the speed of thought before the Souls within the Domain passed them on to those that would use them. Other things, besides weapons of war, were crafted within the Domain, but those were fewer in number as the main specialty of all those within the Field was that of battle, but advances in medicine and transport were still crafted within the immense silver spirals before being passed onwards.

Within the Materium, Phase-Smiths were those who could hear them best, their Psychic talents being the most refined and potent of all the Unbroken, along with the Aesir. Still, to say that all the Jotunns were Psykers was a bit of a misnomer as, for most, it came as nothing more than a deeper understanding of all things around them, a better gut instinct than most, or some basic grasp of Technomancy, Biomancy, Technopathy and Telepathy, among other things. Those who could manifest their abilities, while high in comparison to other Legions, with the noted exception of the Fifteenth, were still few in number, especially in a Legion that numbered so few.

Still, even with this situation in play, the Souls of Valhalla remained ready to support their mortal kin, they would wait until the end of time, for that was what they waited on.

They waited for the End times, to be called when the Aesir and Jotunns needed them the most, waiting for the Great Father's call.

And they would not be found wanting...

 **XXX**

Admiral Kirk Marvis looked on at the rapidly growing Hive Spire with no small amount of interest. He had, in his long career, seen the Tech-Priests working around the clock to make the multi-kilometre tall constructs to hold the citizens of the Imperium, he had seen these things being built over decades and, even afterwards, taking centuries to properly fill up with their total population cap. However, now, he was watching something that was beyond incredible as _Astartes_ were working as the builders rather than as Warriors at the head of the Crusade.

Marvis and his fleet had been assigned to the Second Legion, the Unbroken, a Legion which, in his own opinion, needed no introduction as their reputation was more than enough to introduce them as he had seen the aftermath of many a world that either had challenged them, being brought into Compliance via strength of arms. More than one such world had been rendered as little more than radioactive, barren rocks that couldn't support life while others, which had been the home of Xenos, had been blasted to pieces as the Astartes of the Unbroken had always maintained a healthy lead on the ships of the Imperial Navy. Still, that wasn't to say that they didn't interact with one another, contingents of Astartes remained behind, aiding in reversing the damage that had been done as they crafted massive machines that turned those same barren rocks into literal paradises for Mankind. Now, however, something had changed as he saw the _entire_ Legion pulling back from the front and working to aid the development of a dozen different worlds that had been brought into Compliance.

Marvis didn't know the specifics, only that the Emperor ordered it as such, but he knew enough to know that when a Legion of almost ninety thousand of the strongest Astartes and their Aesir Auxiliaries come back missing just under ninety percent and sixty percent of their forces, respectively...

Well, he knew when to keep his mouth shut about just how strong the foe they had encountered must have been in order to push that to happen. However, when asked he had humbly asked the Unbroken as to what had happened, they merely replied with something that had chilled him to the very bone.

"A mistake built at the apex of mankind's Golden Age, one that should have been corrected at before the dawn of the Old Night... One that we have corrected, at great cost."

It was more than enough for him to be rather grateful for being assigned to 'fight' alongside the Second Legion, if only because they preferred to storm ahead of the fleet, preventing the Naval forces from getting caught in the middle of a battle that was clearly not meant for mere mortals.

 **XXX**

Marteleus grinned as he looked at the latest project that a fair percentage of the remaining Unbroken had decided to take part in. Namely, the construction of a new flagship for their Lord Primarch due to the restrictions of the Treaty of Kilomiz.

As such, he, as the most senior of the Unbroken and the War-Forger, was currently looking over the massively complex designs for a vessel beyond reckoning, using a mixture of technologies that they had gained throughout their Crusade along with both technologies freely given by the Adepts of Mars, and those that had been constantly refined by the sharpest minds of the Aesir. Not only that, but the adepts of Autochthonia had also been throwing in their own innovations that they had created as a result. Heck, it was said that even the _Emperor_ had offered something to go towards the construction of this mighty vessel, as a form of reward for the defeat and 'destruction' of the 'Man of Iron Remnants'. Marteleus wanted to chuckle at that one, even though he, along with a fair portion of the Legion, were conflicted on, still, they chose to trust in the wisdom of their Primarch and prepare for the worst, as they always had.

Shaking his head, Marteleus turned back to his task as he looked over the wireframe image of the newest Gloriana-Class Battleship to begin construction.

It was planned to be utterly massive, possibly one of the largest constructs that could reasonably be called a 'Starship' ever built within the Era of the Imperium, measuring over 65 kilometres from end to end and with a wing span of almost 38 kilometres, it was utterly massive in size and scope. Armor was planned to be almost twenty metres thick at the weakest point, almost triple that at its strongest, and all made from a mixture of Titan Skin, Black Plate and Nanoweave to ensure next to nothing would be capable of damaging the ship, dozens of Void Shields with triple that number of redundancies while also having a Mirage Shield in place with two redundant systems for use. For such a large ship, it was planned to be capable of moving with surprising stealth and speed, especially given the recent upgrades in Warp Drive design made by a few of the Peace Guilds. Still, the ship was massive, so large in fact that it even had a small Grav/Maglev hybrid system of trams to transport people and materials around the ship, again, developed by the Peace Guilds and something that was actually seeing use as being built into the Hive Spires that some of the Unbroken were helping to construct, among other things.

For weapons, the ship's arsenal was planned to be without equal.

For the main weapons, the ship was planned to have at least six massive turrets on each wing, each of which was to be equipped with a triple-linked array of Nova Cannons along with a Magnum Torpedo Launcher system with a capacity for ten shots per turrets before reloading was necessary. These turrets were planned to be located along the tips of each wing, as to give them the best field of fire two fin-like structures intersected the wings, most of which being above the wings, but from the top, it would grow thicker before stopping below the wings about three times as thick as it was at the top. Along these fins, and along the leading edge of the wings, it was planned for a mixture of twin-linked Lances and more five-shot Magnum Launchers to be scattered around. The sides of the ship were to be decorated with even more batteries of such weapons, either as twin-linked Lance cannons, quad-linked, Plasma or Disruptor, Marcocannons, Twin-linked Plasma Beamers, Triple-linked Neutron-Pulse Beamers or even a few Matter-conversion weapons. Missile batters and point defense systems were also heavily incorporated into the ship's design, as was Unbroken custom to ensure that their vessels were not lacking in any area and, while it may not excel, it would be adequate enough to aid it's defense.

However, to make this mighty ship even more terrifying to any that would face it, the Unbroken had decided to add another twelve Triple-linked Nova Cannon turrets to the head of the ship with six on either side while also adding a singular weapon system that they had created based on the Nova Cannon that they had decided to call the Supernova. It was a massive weapon, with a barrel built directly into the head of the ship that was almost twenty kilometres long, it was designed as the ultimate answer in long range firepower in space, firing a shell that was at least the size of a Cobra-class Destroyer. The initial calculations had already stated that even firing a solid metal slug would have been enough to crack open a planet and shatter it into pieces at full power, and if it survived, it would become one of the most geologically active objects in space. And that was without going into the impressive arsenal of ammo types that could be loaded into such a weapon, or the fact that the weapon incorporated prototype Warp Skimmer technology, allowing projectiles to skim between Real Space and the Warp.

In short, it's target could be on the other side of a solar system and it would have much less time to react than one might think.

Of course, this being an Unbroken ship, it also contained foundries, labs of a dozen types, workshops, miniature manufactoriums and dozens of cargo bays that would either hold newly acquired samples, recently developed devices, and raw materials. Of course, that last point was rather moot given the five Matter Forges and the twenty industrial-sized Nano Forges built into the ship with another few hundred Nano Forges of various sizes scattered around the ship. The Matter Forges had been carefully recovered from Cybertron and integrated into the massive ship's systems, isolated and protected to ensure that nothing could harm them without destroying the whole ship first, given just how utterly precious such devices were.

"Yes, hopefully the Lord Primarch will approve." Marteleus muttered to himself as he glanced up from the hologram to see the skeleton of a massive vessel being built within the bowels of Autochthonia.

"... Because this will be a vessel with no equal within the Imperium..."

 **XXX**

Julia Cormac around from her examination of the world below her, standing at the edge of a massive observation room within the massive tower known as Asgard. Honestly, she found it rather impressive to look at, she certainly approved of the inhabitants and their beliefs, though she found it rather funny how they had chosen to view their creator. Turning more fully, she turned in time to see a Portal through the Warp open as she quietly studied it with her own Gift for a moment, curious as to how it was done and having an interest in learning it in turn as the creator of the Portal stepped through. She smiled as she saw Marcus step fully through the Portal, wearing his full armor and seeming to give off an air of smug accomplishment as she watched his stride go from a subtle limp to smooth and precise, almost bordering on the Eldar.

"I take it that your Father bought it?" She asked as she turned around and leaned against the railings behind her as he turned to her and offered a half-smirk.

"He believed me. Though, just because he bought the cover story does _not_ mean that you get a free pass. He fully approved of the actions of the cover story, I'm willing to bet that, had I told him the truth, he would have ordered your death because there _might_ have been the chance that you were compromised by the Men of Iron." Marcuse countered as he raised a hand and pointed at her, his eyes narrowed slightly. "And, don't forget, you still have to prove that you were on the level with me before I consider letting you take off your latest fashion accessory."

Julia lifted a hand and rubbed the metal chocker around her neck, something she thought of as a rather tame compensation until she earned the trust of her host. The device was a Matter-conversion warhead with any number of detectors, sensors and triggers, encased in Phase-Iron and with enough focused Psi-Jammers that even she would have a difficult time disarming it. Sure, Julia knew that she'd be able to do as much, but not before the device went off and vaporized her and everything around her for five metres. The former WARMIND Operator actually approved of that, shrugging in response to that.

"I can't exactly argue with that, especially after the damage I did, though, I honestly expected your soldiers to want my blood, given the casualties I dealt them during our... _Misunderstanding_?" Julia asked as she watched Marcus move, snorting as he turned towards one side of the room and allowed his armor to open up, unlocking around him before she watched him step out and seal the armor behind him.

"Then you _really_ should get to know my Legion, since they have a rather fatalistic view of things, to say the least." He stated as he walked over to a small work station, a table covered in tools and half assembled machines that she vaguely recognized as replicas of the Processors used by her Puppets on her Sanctuary.

"Oh, how so?" She asked, curious as she moved closer, absently relishing the feel of her pseudo-organic body as she had recently directed her Technomancy inwards and remodeled it to be a more... _Human_ design. Taking inspiration from her host's own body, she had built it along the same lines as his, but with her own twists thrown in as it had also allowed her to replicate the Nanoweave that filled his body, allowing her, ironically, to be even more durable than her metallic form had been, even after her constant tinkering with her form over the millennia. Thankfully, she had managed to remake herself in the shape of her old body before she had been taken prisoner, which put her around 2.75 metres tall with an athletic, tightly packed, and muscular build while still retaining all the right curves in all the right places. Short silver hair came down to her neck while her sapphire blue eyes scanned the world around her. Just as she remembered when she had looked in the mirror.

"Survival of the fittest." Her host stated simply as she watched him take a seat by the work station as he grabbed a few tools, some scraps of paper and seemed to start looking over a few designs that she vaguely recognized.

That looked like a complex, multi-function Endo-skeleton. That, over there, looked like a redesigned processing system using an array of pico-engineered crystals encased in some kind of energy and radiation dispersive foam. That, there, looked like a modified power core, using a larger amount of redundant safety systems, but also being about fifty percent larger. However, before she could consider a few of the other sketches that her host had created, he spoke once more as she moved closer, grabbing a spare chair as she moved over.

"They believe that constant change is the way things should be within the Legion, that if you have grown complacent... If you have grown stagnant, then you have no place in the Legion, usually that only happens as a result of the termination of those within the Legion. They view what happened back on Cybertron as a culling and a wakeup call, of sorts, they won't thank you for it, since they lost a lot of comrades to the meat grinders you put them through, but unless you turn hostile on them, or me for that matter, they won't start putting Bolt shells into you. Just... Give them some time to deal with things, my Legion hasn't suffered loses quite like that before, so it'll take some time before they even feel like coming near you, at least not without holding you at gunpoint." He remarked as she nodded at his explanation. It was understandable, even if she found their recover and reaction to her own actions to be rather... _disturbing_ , then again, given her own past actions and beliefs, not to mention her _current_ beliefs, she was hardly one to talk.

"Fair enough." She quipped back before an impish grin covered her face as she leaned forwards, crossing her legs as she presented a fair amount of her own cleavage for Marcus to see as her voice changed to a low purring.

"Does that mean that I'll get to join the _fun_ behind closed doors soon...?" She asked as Marcus stopped what he was doing, turning to her with a frown and a raised eyebrow as he glanced over her before snorting, clearly understanding her implied message.

"... I honestly have no idea how to respond to that besides saying that what happens behind those _closed_ doors, is none of your business. If I think I can trust you, and we both end up having feelings for the other at some point in the future, then maybe, but that ain't happening any time soon, so don't get your hopes up, since I'm pretty damned sure that would just make your day." He remarked sardonically as she snorted in turn, leaning back as she did so before glancing out the window once more as they both descended into silence, only broken by Marcus working away at his work station as he tinkered with a few designs and devices. Julia was lost in thought, thinking about her past, her present, and her possible futures as other thoughts swam around her mind until one caught her attention.

"... Why?" Marcus paused at that as he turned towards her with a frown.

"Why what?" He asked, seeming curious about what she wanted to know as she shrugged.

"Why are you so interested in protecting them? The Humans?" She asked curiously, wondering about his stance on the whole matter. He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Last time I checked, I _am_ Human, same as you." He replied simply as she shook her head with a half-smile and a snort.

"Not what I meant. Why are you so invested in protecting the Baselines? They're fragile, weak and, unless in sufficient numbers, all they can hope to do on any given battlefield is die in droves, yet you're invested in protecting them even as they view those with even the slightest traces of gene-modification as abominations. Hell, they'd probably view one of your Felinid Pet as something less than Human." Julia remarked as Marcus glared at her.

"Tig'ra is _not_ a Pet." He hissed sharply as she shrugged.

"Felinids and other Altered like them were the result of the Augment War, they were created as pets, slaves and bed-warmers for despots that had one taste or another." She remarked with a shrug, it was true, after all. Marcus looked interested at that.

"Augment War? Can't say I've heard of that before, care to elaborate?" He asked, putting his tools down as he turned more fully towards her, Julia offered a shrug in return.

"Sure. The Augment War was a civil war that took place around... The middle 21st Millennia and was around a century long. The reason it happened was due to a group of Gene-Crafters taking control of a fair section of Human space at the time, blocking it off and making it into their own private domains after crafting an army of genetically engineered war beasts as their soldiers. The inhabitants that were trapped in with them were basically turned into the Gene-Crafters' play things, changed and altered to serve one purpose or another. The military at the time, composed of normal Human soldiers, tried taking the space back, but they were utterly ripped to shreds. This forced the Terran Federation of the time to take more... _Drastic_ measures." Julia explained, pausing for a moment as she tried to remember a few other details before continuing, she knew the basic outline, but more details didn't hurt.

"The Federation started a program that would see to the creation of what could be likened to the first augmented soldiers, given crude cybernetic and biological augments before being unleashed back upon the war beasts of the Despots. What followed was a turning point, especially when the augmented soldiers won battle after battle without pause, entire systems being retaken over the course of weeks rather than months or even years before they finally won, killing off the rest of the Despots and liberating the fallen space. Those that were created by the Despots were freed, along with those that had been altered and they were given new lives... Even though they never lost their old, programmed, instincts." Julia offered with a slight smirk as she glanced at Marcus, who offered a glare before sighing as he leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"... What about the augmented soldiers? What became of them?" Julia smiled at that, it was a story she knew well and still remembered to this day.

"They were kept around, even upgraded and expanded upon as the military became a sub-culture all in its own right, militaristic and with what could be called Transhumanist views and values, seeing normal humans as squishy and weak. Those views and beliefs had already been shown to being true during the Augment War, and every subsequent war that happened, fighting against the Orks, Eldar and a dozen other races that tried to wipe Humanity out. The Augmented eventually grew bitter about their role in things, even as they fought, they still died like any other and felt like they were being taken advantage of as a duty became a burden. Baselines were also jealous of the Augmented, viewing them as arrogant for their gifts and legacies. Over time, those feelings continued to build on both sides until the creation of the Men of Stone, that was around the same time that the Augmented were finally 'decommissioned' from their roles and allowed to leave, but not before dozens of laws were put in place. Those laws basically amounted to us having to be segregated from Baselines and, if we were out and about, we would need to have identifiers of some kind on us. Not to mention preventing us from continuing with our beliefs of self-improvement through science and technological advancement." Julia offered a sad smile at that, remembering her own past at that.

"That continued right up until the Iron War started, when Humanity needed us again, practically begging us to help them, to die for them, and undoing the laws they had built to keep us from growing any stronger. New Augmented were being made as the war progressed, eventually becoming standard for anyone that entered the fight." Julia smiled ferally at that thought as Marcus looked at her oddly for a moment.

"And you? I assume that you came from a line of Augmented, since you seem to be rather proud of that history?" He asked as Julia puffed up her chest with pride.

"You bet your ass I am! The Cormac family is what is called a Legacy Family, we could trace our roots all the way back to the first generations of Augmented. We had massive libraries containing records of every member plus labs that were constantly turning out new technologies and methods of augmenting ourselves right up until the Laws of Weakness were passed. After the start of the Iron War, we cracked those labs back open and got to work, most of us having not lost the skills needed to work in them even after a few millennia as we were taught by our parents, the previous generation." Julia explained as she smiled, her eyes glazing over and losing focus for a moment, lost in happy memories of better times before shaking her head, turning her attention back to her host.

"You still didn't answer my question." She reminded him as he nodded before leaning back, gazing up at the ceiling.

"... In the beginning, I suppose, it was because I felt that they needed the protection. I believed that those with power should be the ones to shelter and protect those without it." Marcus stated, leaning back on to his work station as he looked her over, his own eyes slightly glazed as he considered things. Julia said nothing as she watched him, her own abilities coming to the fore ground as she passively heard whispers of thoughts along the lines of the renamed WARMIND that seemed to link him to every being around her. She had to admit, even though she was more powerful than Marcus, he could call upon more power than she could imagine, with the backing of a full race of Augmented at his back to grant him their faith and belief in battle.

"And now?" The former-Human asked, partly curious and partly hesitant to know, ensure of the current standing of her host. She considered the two ways he might answer, within nano-seconds, her mind had conjured a dozen possibilities of what to expect, some violent and others not.

None of them were proven true as Marcus simply shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Truthfully, I don't know. Elements within the Aesir, and even the Jotunns, have been growing dissatisfied with the status quo. The Aesir understand why the Treaty was signed, but they don't like it, especially when they feel that being leashed by what they view as an empire of weaklings is holding said leash. The Jotunns, on the other hand, are more annoyed at some of the other Legions and how they seem to view my own Legion. More than a dozen see us as dishonorable cowards while even more see us as untrustworthy and dangerous, to both allies and enemies. Even the mortals look at us like unexploded bombs half the time." Marcus sighed at that, running a hand through silver hair as his breath left him explosively.

"... I just... I don't know... For now, I can tolerate the status quo, but if things keep going like they are... I honestly don't know what to expect... And that scares me..."

Julia didn't ask him more, and Marcus didn't say any more, merely returning to his work and filling the room with the soft sound of screws tightening and metal flowing.

 **XXX**

AN: So... Thoughts...?


	16. Approaching Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing

AN: Ok, next chapter, here we go. Hope you all enjoy it after it's been sitting about half finished for about a week now.

Enjoy.

 **XXX**

"Hold up! Your telling me you can make what...?!" Julia smiled widely as she looked over at Marcus, who was sitting on a chair at the other side of the workshop even as she leaned rather smugly against another workbench of her own that her host had generously provided to her. Honestly speaking, the gesture was unneeded, but it was one that she quite enjoyed all the same, as it showed that Marcus was at least making an effort to interact with her and that she could work to move past their initial... _Impression_. As such, she had taken to speaking of their mutual interest: Warfare and the technologies used during times of war.

"It was considered standard during the Iron War for soldiers to be equipped with. I can create and build them given time and resources, but it is an effort-intensive process and requires a fair bit of time, hence why I didn't arm my Puppets with them. Not only would it mean that they would take longer to produce, but if you captured a few of them, I'm sure you could have reverse-engineered your own version of the system and created something with your own twist to it, as the Iron Men would have." Julia explained with a shrug of a single shoulder as she gestured towards the hologram floating between them, an image made real thanks to interfacing with the holographic systems within the workshop to display the image with perfect clarity as it cycled through multiple views to show the product of millennia of work.

Seeing it, Marcus leaned down and pinched the bridge of his nose, mildly unhappy with Julia, but more in terms of exasperation than anything else. Such a reaction made Julia smile smugly at pulling one over the powerful Primarch as he stood, something that was a challenge in itself given his own skills when divining things from the Warp.

"Ok, fine. Now, can you run me through this thing again? I want to understand just what the hell I'm looking at beyond the fact that it's, apparently, a gun that has a built-in Nano/Matter Forge that can turn energy into any kind of bullet imaginable." Marcus replied evenly even as his eyebrow twitched, much to her enjoyment, as she nodded in turn.

"The weapon I'm showing you right now was called the Truestrike M-23 Smart Rifle. It was created and released for active service near the end of the Iron War, merely a few years before my own capture and was created to counter the growing problems we were having in terms of logistics due to the simple fact that we were losing ground rapidly. The weapon itself is a marvel, though it was, even with our industrial capabilities at the time, somewhat difficult to produce in large amounts, leading to many WARMIND Magisters learning how to create them in between battles. The weapon itself has both a Matter Forge and an early form of Nano Forge built into itself, though the latter of the two was more along the lines of a 3D printer using compact Force Fields, Grav-manipulators and early, very basic, nanite designs. The end result was a weapon with impressive tactical flexibility, self-repair capabilities and a complete lack of a logistical footprint due to having its own built in reactor/powerpack." Julia explained as Marcus nodded along with her explanation.

"What about these two secondary barrels? The top one, I'm guessing, is for the main projectiles, but what are the other two for? And, for that matter, why does the barrel look so strange? It seems to feature some kind of extension system using programmed poly-alloys, but I'm not quite getting the point of that." Marcus noted as Julia smiled a bit wider as they both were more engrossed in their conversation.

"In reverse order, the primary barrel was capable of altering both its length and it's bore, allowing for changes in the capabilities of the weapon. A longer, wider barrel allowed it to become a heavy sniper-like weapon or a battle rifle, while a shorter, thinner barrel allowed it to become a sub-machine gun of some description. Such capabilities were mirrored by the internal production capabilities since larger shells took longer to produce, altering the rate of fire as a result. The same can also be said about the ammo itself, the more complex the ammo, the lower the rate of fire as a result due to how long it takes to create." Once more, Marcus nodded along even as holograms appeared around him, words being transcribed from thoughts as she noted complex designs being jotted down as sketches that may bear fruit in latter designs. Moving up, away from her bench, she moved towards the hologram and pointed out the two other barrel assembles.

"The first secondary barrel was used for a Variable yield Plasma weapon, it could shift to firing in one of three modes: A beam, a pulse or a large bolt or sphere. The beam allowed for impressive amounts of armor penetration and range by concentrating the Plasma into a single stream and containing any possibility of leakage through magnetic fields, however, this lead to a longer recharge time between shots and was primarily used as a method of dealing with either Super Heavy infantry such as Massacres, or lightly armored vehicles, such as this 'Leman Russ' Tank, named after one of your Brothers. The pulses were considered the middle ground of the fire modes, with a rate of fire that was more like that of a semi-automatic rifle, but with greater power behind each shot, it lacked in both range and armor penetration, but was good for rapidly cutting down hordes of lesser drone units. Lastly, the sphere was, effectively, a method of wrapping a large amount of Plasma in an electromagnetic shell and launching it at a target, the impact would cause the electromagnetic shell to break and would release the Plasma, resulting in an effect similar to a Plasma grenade going off." Marcus nodded even as more words were converted to data, even as Julia also noted down that her own words were being transcribed for later review, or possibly as a way of remembering all that was said and not inconviencing her with questions that she had probably answered at an earlier time. With Marcus, it was possible that both answers were correct or completely wrong, one had to really stay on their toes to predict his moves, even when he wasn't trying to obscurity them.

"And the second barrel?" He asked, pointing to the second barrel assembly even as Julia smiled just a bit more as she looked over this design before highlighting the assembly of the other secondary weapon built into the Truestrike.

"That, Marcus, is the barrel assembly for a Graviton Impulse Driver. A Grav-weapon designed to create a point of intense gravity at the target location and draw all the matter within a variable range towards it. Depending on the settings, it could be used to merely pull a man to a wall and pin him there or crush an entire corridor of enemy forces within moments. Due to the nature of it, our forces had long since learned to sweep the target point across enemy formations, it was especially effective against the Men of Iron when they launched massed attacks of lesser enemy forces against us." Julia remarked with a slight hint of fond remembrance as she lost herself in old memories for a moment, remembering the hard fought battles against the Iron Men and turning the tide with the aid of these weapons. Marcus nodded at that, seemingly gazing at the blueprint more thoroughly before nodding once more to himself for some unknown reason.

"Certainly impressive, though, I have my own doubts about whether or not we have the right industrial infrastructure in order to build and equip my Legion with these weapons. Certainly, some of the less advanced stuff can be done, but something like _this_ might just be a bit outside our reach at the moment." He stated with a slight smile that hinted at exasperation. Julia merely snorted at that thought, the Unbroken had the infrastructure needed to build Truestrike-like weapons already, they merely lacked the dedicated instruction in order to see it done. Then again, Julia considered, maybe this had something to do with other considerations.

"... I know that you can build it. I saw your capabilities back on my Sanctuary, so don't bullshit me about that kind of thing. Spill it, what's the real reason that you don't want to start making these things?" She asked simply as Marcus glanced to the side, his eyes darting around in thought even as he glanced towards her from time to time before he sighed in defeat.

"... If I agree to start mass producing these kinds of weapons, a lot of people would start getting a lot more anxious about myself and my Legion than before. Certainly, my Legion does not have the best of reputations, but people are starting to become more hesitant of us, more cautious, our constant self-evolution and upgrading hasn't helped that and the other Legions are closing ranks around us. The Emperor doesn't seem to mind that, so long as we do our duty and uphold our end of the bargain, but the simple fact is that moving too fast will attract his attention, if not the attention of my Brothers..." Marcus noted, trailing off as he didn't bother mentioning the possible consequences, especially with what Julia had heard of Leman Russ and his rather significant grudge against Marcus in turn for what had happened when they finally met for the first time. Still, Julia considered it for a moment before shrugging lazily with one shoulder, drawing a questioning gaze from the Primarch before her.

"If they want to pick a fight with you, that just means that all bets are off and you don't need to worry about those stupid treaties that you signed to ensure that your people weren't subsumed by the Imperium as a whole. Besides, you can just try making changes from within while making preparations for the fallout should it fail, either way, things will work out, especially given your people's abilities and advantages." Julia stated as Marcus snorted slightly at that.

"And what would you propose that I start working on as one of these 'hidden aces' that will rather blatantly breach the treaties that I worked on to ensure my realm remained outside the reach of the Imperium?" He asked in turn, sounding part way between incredulous, amused and interested, the last of which was difficult for her to pick up even as he masked it with a mockingly false chuckle. Julia wasn't offended by it, understanding all too well that Marcus was in a position that was like balancing on a tight rope with the only thing to look forwards to on either side being a swift death, if he was lucky. With a though, the holographic image changed, removing the Truestrike from view for a moment before replacing it with another creation that Julia had considered building for herself, before discarding it for a time, mostly due to lacking the resources needed to build it.

The design itself was unusual, looking like a claw-less Scorpion that stood on eight legs, a torso-like structure extending from the main body while a long tail extended from the other end and could curl up and over the machine like that of a true Scorpion. Instead of arms, the torso had two pairs of weapon emplacements on either side of the torso and lacked a visible head or sensor node, such things being hidden deep within layers of armor and shielding as to ensure the machines survival against enemy forces. Marcus looked at the design with a raised eyebrow, showing his interest for a moment as Julia smiled slightly.

Good, at least she hadn't lost him before she had even made her presentation, a very good first step.

"This is what I like to call the Lynch. It is a Psy-Engine." She stated plainly as Marcus, instead of reacting with outrage, as it was one of the things that the Emperor had banned his Legion from research, he actually looked interested. At seeing her look, Marcus merely grinned a small, knowing smile.

"The Emperor merely banned us from researching and developing our own Psy-Engines, or devices of a similar nature. Technically, should we build this, we will still be sticking to the letter of the law, if not the spirit." He remarked, causing Julia to chuckle at that, mentally wondering if, in another life, Marcus could have been a lawyer of some type, if only due to his ability to find loopholes. Julia nodded at those words before continuing once more.

"The Lynch is a Psy-Engine, as I said. It was created with the express purpose of using cloned Psyker brains as a power source to release area of effect assaults of Warp Energy in multiple forms. The Psyker brains would be created and installed in null-blank boxes before being activated and channeled through the machine when needed. A large amount of the internals had to be made out of Phase Iron and other materials that either blocked or dampened the Warp's effect on the machines. The only way for the Psyker brains to actually effect the world outside would be through Warp conductor channels built through the machine to make it capable of using certain effects as well as project a few effects from an emitter array built into the tail stinger." Julia remarked as she gestured to the sections in turn and pointed out each feature as she saw Marcus taking more notes and studying each section with a steady gaze that told of his focus.

"What kind of effects? And, for that matter, what other defenses does the Psy-Engine have? I highly doubt you'd make a one-trick pony that would require such a heavy investment in resources, especially since I'm pretty damned sure you know just how difficult it is to clone Psyker brains. I've seen the reports about doing so from your time, even with Navigator caskets, I highly doubt the process would have gotten any easier, especially with the current state of the Warp." Marcus inquired, pointing out potential flaws with her design as she allowed a small grin to spread over her features as she enjoyed the sensation of conversation. Sure, it hadn't been a long time since their last talk, but the feeling of genuine conversation between herself and something other than either demented Daemons the other creatures of the Warp and silent machines was better than nothing. A gesture of her hand, and a second hologram appeared, detailing complex mathematics that were the result of generations of research into the immaterial realm of Chaos to try and find some measure of understanding.

"Mostly wide area effects; Localized Firestorms, miniature blizzards of ice fragments, temporal effects, special warping, focused entropic effects, things like that. Each Lynch would have a total of six Psyker brains in them, each one tuned to one trick, maybe two at most, but no more than that for safety reasons. The emitter array would work to project the effects over a distance, but they could also be deployed at closer ranges via channels built into the armor of the Lynch. As for other tricks, well, the thing is armed and armored as is appropriate for its size, obviously, but the armor is made from a low-tech nano-weave alloy with feedstock circulatory system backstopped by multiple localized self-repair systems. Along with that, I was thinking about having each one having multiple Flare Shields along with a Mist Projector around itself." Julia stated as Marcus raised an eyebrow at that.

"'Mist Projector'?" He asked, seemingly trying to figure out what the veteran was referring to for a moment before Julia smiled and answered.

"Basically the same idea as your Mist Blades, but applied as an anti-melee countermeasure to discourage anyone from trying to get too close and board it. I had the idea a days ago and added it to this design, but didn't do anything with it since I'm still working out a few problems with issues of limited amounts of nanites to work with." Julia stated as the Primarch nodded as more words appeared around him on various holographic screens before he looked back at the design.

"What about the weapons?" The Great Father asked simply as the former-Human smiled widely as she rotated the image and directed it to showing the four cannons, the stinger and the eight massive legs, along with, strangely enough, a section of the back between the torso and the base of the tail. Starting at the back, Julia pointed at the stinger first.

"Along with being the projector for Warp effects, the stinger also houses a pair of Positron Beamers and a Nanite Thrower. The Positron Beamers are rather self-explanatory, being beams of projected anti-matter capable of annihilating pretty much any armored or unarmored target you'd care to name. The Nanite Thrower, on the other hand, is a dual purpose device, its primary function is to work as a flamethrower-like device capable of ripping matter apart in a short-lived weaponisation of grey goo. The other function is that of a construction aid and a way to rapidly repair damaged units in the field by stripping usable materials from other targets and directing them to friendly units." The image changed, replaced with the image of the four cannons that dominated the sides of the creation as one of them was removed from the hologram and an exploded view appeared between the two augmented beings.

"The cannons are an old favorite of mind; Truestrike Barrage cannons. Basically scaled up versions of the Truestrike rifles with a larger maximum bore size and higher general rate of fire. These ones are connected to three Forges each, enabling an impressive rate of fire per cannon. Together, I have my doubts that anything could survive an assault by these things working together." Suddenly, the image changed again, replaced by an image of the eight legs, each ending in a set of four talon-like claws with a sharpened edge that seemed spread out to spread the weight of the massive machine.

"For the legs, nothing particularly special, a power field emitter built into each leg and foot along with claws tipped with a Warp-conductive coating. Each foot also has a miniature Graviton generator that can be used to produce potent shockwaves to get rid of any enemies that get too close and try to swarm the Lynch." Once more, limbs were exploded to show their inner workings and highlight pieces as Julia talked before the last section of the machine was highlighted, the blank-seeming back plating of the machine as the view changed and the internal organs of the machine were pulled out to reveal a cylinder of complex machinery as Julia turned to Marcus with a feral smirk.

"Tell me, Marcus, do you know what a Sarcosan Wave Generator is...?"

It didn't take a second for Marcus' lips to twitch into a razor-edged smile of his own.

 **XXX**

Officially, they didn't exist.

They were counted among the dead, killed for the purpose of ensuring victory for the Unbroken to secure worlds and crush the enemies of the Great Father. However, their duty had almost cost them their lives, almost seeing them killed for one reason or another as they fought to the bitter end to ensure that they saw their duty through to the end. Most died, giving their all to see their objectives complete, a rare few survived such experiences, grasping on to the threads of life through nothing but stubborn determination and sheer will. They were the rare breed, one that was rare even among the die-hard survivors of a Legion that chased after advancement through a constant cycle of Darwinian pressure through conflict.

Still, regardless of their pasts, such things were no longer their own, having abandoned such things and having disappeared into the Void through the works of the Great Father himself as they were remade to serve him to the point of death and beyond. They were remade, flesh stripped away until almost nothing remained of their Transhuman beings before they were reforged in bodies of semi-living alloy threaded with conduits of Nanite-carrying wires and bound in a body of eternal evolution.

Each of them, having been transformed, was a spindally creature, tall and thin, looking like a skeleton with lengthened features, an eyeless skull and an enlarged, exposed jaw full of sharpened teeth as shadows seemed to constantly dance around them. Technologies both advanced and eldritch filled their bodies, crafted by their Primarch to aid them in their duties while allowing them to change, evolve and adapt to anything they might face, their metallic flesh becoming a weapon in its own right. Where the Legion served as the Hammer of the Primarch, they served as his hidden dagger, the ones lurking in the shadows, awaiting his call to start cutting the throats of the Great Father's enemies.

To further add levels of separation to themselves and the Legion, they were remade in distinctly inhuman forms, with inhuman designs and aesthetics crafted on to them while their very essence was sculpted and changed to make them something alien, something different... Something... _Other worldly_...

As such, their genes had been stripped bare, ripped apart and put back together to form the basis for new abilities and talents not born into them as they lost their initial gifts to gain new ones that would better suit their new purpose. Within them, they lost their ability to touch the Great Ocean, losing touch with the vast realm of nightmares and having it replaced with eternal silence even as more of them were altered into monsters stalking the night. They became cunning, ruthless and utterly without mercy to better suit the purposes of their Lord, having already failed their Legion once by lacking in some manner, few felt that these changes weren't warranted after being selected. Still, many took time to adjust to the changes, changes that happened both physically, mentally and metaphysically.

Now, they stood, listening with the hungry patience of a predator for their Lord's next order or command, the next mission that would see them hunt again, seeking self-improvement and evolution, conflict and pressure to adapt and change. Still, they waited for their call even as some of them remained on missions until they were complete, listening to the world around them through senses both common and esoteric. They waited in the dark between stars, in the depths of ships, in the shadows of Man, in the dust of ruins, and it the space between spaces.

Officially, they didn't exist...

... Unofficially... The Draugr walked among the living... And they waited for their call...

 **XXX**

Looking down at his latest kill, the Draugr merely noted the slight twitch of the corpse before it fell to the corrupted surface below its feet. The corpse was twisted, misshapen and utterly alien due to the twisting nature of the Warp, but it was still not enough for the inhuman form of an Eldar to not be identifiable under the skin of leather and scale. Darklight blades cut through such things with effortless ease while Essence stealers captured what remained of its soul for further study and dissection at a later time. Such things were hardly the target of its mission, but the Draugr and it's group had been dispatched to this Warp infested planet at the will of their Master, and they would see their task done.

Moving with lilith grace on skeletal limbs, the Draugr known as Senior Ripper Nerus looked at his group with interest as information past between the skeletal forms even as the blinding darkness coating his hands slowly faded away even as he walked onwards. Under his feet, frost formed and crunched lightly with each step as the mutated flesh of the planet seemed to struggle to exist in his presence even as he moved onwards, the corruption returning moments later as he advanced on the target that had been sighted by the others.

 _"Objective?"_ Was all that as communicated through the mental command as he approached his group. All of them were like him, Draugrs that stood tall, even as they hunched over in the light of a corrupted system. He felt the twitch of new information as he directed his vision elsewhere and saw their objectives. Sensors flared to life as the group of five started an advance on the objective, checking every corner and every shadow for any threat. Even then, few doubted that anything would challenge them, at least, not initially.

Regardless, none of them took chances as black mist clung to their forms and danced across their limbs even as the air around them dipped in temperature rapidly, ice spreading and more of the corrupted landscape suffering for it. Again, the Draugr were unmoved by these things as they moved onwards, into the streets of an ancient city, built by inhuman hands and housing nothing but the ghosts of those that had long since been consumed by the hunger of a newly birthed parasite. The ghosts ignored them utterly, not even bothered by the fives' presence even as those near them seemed to fizzle out of existence for moments before reappearing once sufficiently far away. Observing the inhuman ghosts for moments, they moved on, knowing where to go from previous trips to this very planet even as they skirted around the edge of ruined streets and desolated market stalls before reaching the perfect point and waited for what was to come.

The Draugr did not need to wait long, as the air hummed with power before something happened, the ghosts suddenly clutching their bodies as phantom pains coursed through them before each Ghost seemed to explode in a mist of unreal flesh. Such a thing lasted moments before the mist was pulled, ripped from the air and towards the ground as crystals rapidly formed and took shape as the Draugr advanced and reached out, taking the first formed crystal and holding it gingerly in razor-edged, Fractal claws.

 _"Objective sighted. Moving to begin collection. Total collection should equal over eight hundred samples this cycle."_ Came the mental voice of another Draugr as Nerus nodded back at his subordinate even as he felt the cloak of mist detach from him before dripping down, matter taking shape and forming into a massive cylinder that he dumped the crystal in before moving on to grab other crystals quickly. The routine harvests were short windows to obtain samples, but they worked well enough to allow for large amounts of said samples to be gathered quickly, especially by those like the inhuman Draugr.

 _"Remove as many samples as possible. Other teams have reported their tasks complete and are returning to the Burial Mound. Our window is closing."_ Nerus stated as they went to work.

Had any of them had lips, they would have smiled, as they started loading Waystones on to the cylinder as they worked quickly to load more of their precious cargo away.

They had a schedule to keep, and a quota to meet.

 **XXX**

Standing in the upper reaches of Asgard, I couldn't help myself as I smiled looking at the vessel that awaited me beyond the view beyond me. Even when compared to the massive expanse of space before me, the ship was still massive, distances meaning little to due to both scale and proximity as I admired the workmanship that was being put into the ship as it was built. It would take years before it was finished, aided by the systems developed by my Aesir and the Tech-Priests that now lived in the artificial moon.

Looking around, I saw the fleet of my Legion as it was, battered, bruised and scared from battles uncountable, but still standing proud at surviving as the cousin ships of the Aesir Navy stood guard around the system. I looked from the blunt, wide ships of the Unbroken to the razor-edged daggers of the Aesir, I saw the differences between them and I saw the ways they had to go until they had fully integrated into one another. I felt faith at seeing such things, reports having come to me of such, of members of the Unbroken aiding repair crews, helping construction teams and even helping to teach the next generations lessons based on hard experience. It was a brilliant thing to see, certainly brilliant to know that it would happen...

... But I still felt doubt...

Julia had raised many good points in the past, certainly now that I didn't need to fight her, but her words about the future still rang true. I scowled as the thoughts came to me, the consideration and theories of a dozen years of thought-exercises having come to a single conclusion long ago, and certainly one that I found myself refusing to even acknowledge, even as I repeatedly saw the proof before me.

Humanity, as it currently was, was weak...

Humans were weak, weak in mind, body and soul. They survived through luck and, currently, through sheer numbers of bodies that they could throw at a problem. They could not take and dish out the same amount of damage as an Ork; They were not as fast or potent as an Eldar; They were not as physically capable as a dozen races I could probably name off the top of my head, all races that had been either encountered before or after my encounter with the Mutts, all of them wiped out by my Aesir and my Unbroken Jotunns. Humans were weak as they were, but I knew ways of improving them a dozen fold, ways of making them better, making them better than they currently were in order to survive the horrors of the night and ensure that, at the end of the Night, Humanity would stand at the top of the corpse pile.

Of course, such thoughts were quickly dismissed, especially in the light of some of the things I had recently discovered about my Creator, certainly, things that he probably wouldn't have wanted me or the others to know.

Honestly, one would be amazed at what one could find out by having a conversation with a person that had lived though events, not to mention the people they would remember when they were shown a picture. Julia had gotten curious at one point and asked for a picture of my Creator, partly out of curiosity and partly out of a need to know who to look out for as a part of looking into the current list of who the Top Dogs of the Imperium were.

Imagine my surprise when she ID's the Emperor as the man that called for the laws to be created in order to prevent Augments from being created and upgraded outside of specific lines. Someone who openly stood _against_ Transhumanism. I snorted at that thought, the hypocrisy standing out too thickly as I remembered the racial memories that Julia had showed me, encoded right into her very DNA by her forefathers, a way of forever allowing them to see the face of the one that had made them weak, if only to forever spite him.

A chuckle bubbled up my throat as I stood in the empty, formerly-silent, observation deck.

It seemed that, even in this hellish realm, irony was still ever-present.

 **XXX**

For Wulfric Varus, life was good.

He worked a decent job as a labor director under the direction of Mechanicum overseers that worked to built and restore planets that had been liberated by the expanding Imperium from cruel Xenos that had enslaved them. Wulfric knew it, he had been just a child when they had originally come and devastated those that had picked the world clean, eating his forefather's kin and leaving not even bone behind as they ripped people and communities apart to feed insane appetites of flesh and pain. The creatures were now all dead, their ships and interstellar empire little more than another corpse that had fallen before the marching feet of the Emperor's armies.

Still, even as the armies moved onwards, garrisons remained behind and drove further afield, to reclaim more of Humanity's once lost glory. Still, in order to do that, they needed a strong backbone to get them moving. This was the reason for Wulfric's current duty; aiding in the construction of yet another storage complex, a miniature city of steel built both upwards and downwards to house countless supplies and materials. Already, they had dug dozens of metres into the dirt and rock, moving deeper in order to build their foundations.

Then it all suddenly came to a grinding halt.

"Oi! What the Frak is going on?!" Wulfric shouted as he was brought out of his thoughts, the sound of a drill snapping echoing through the air as he marched over to the source of it, such in time to see a terrified worker holding the implement in his hands.

"S-Sorry sir! I-I didn't do anything! I swear! I was just drilling to make more space when I hit something. Thought it was just a bit of tough rock and that I could push through it when, well..." The worker stated as Wulfric looked him over to see the damaged drill before looking over at the wall of rock to see the cause of it as shards of rock had dropped away to reveal the stubborn material that had caused drill to snap. It was a smooth, glassy silver material that stood out from the dark rock, light shining off it ever so slightly while a trace of green danced at the edge of the material, at least, that which was visible. Wulfric narrowed his eyes, focusing on the object in question as he moved forwards, leaning close as he reached out to touch the object.

"What in the name of..." That was as far as he got, however, as the moment he made contact with the strange material was the same moment that he died, the rock wall suddenly falling, exploding outwards in a blast of green energy followed by a swarm of insectial machines that swarmed over them, surging up, through, and out of the pit.

They left nothing behind them as corpses were ripped to pieces and thrown to the ground, disappearing under the cloud of machines and the glow of ominous, green energy...

 **XXX**

AN: ... I have no regrets!


	17. Note of discontinuation Sorry

Alright, first of all, I'd like to apologies to all those currently waiting for an update of this story, mostly because, I'm afraid, one isn't coming.

The simple fact of the matter is that life has been busy and chaotic for a long time. I'm driving between shifts and courses every day of the week and being able to actually sit down to write a chapter for some of my older stories isn't something I can do as easily. Admittedly, the constant assault of plotbunnies hasn't helped, but they _do_ spawn the occasional interesting idea.

For that reason, I will say that, while this story may not be continuing, I _do_ have plans to create a reboot of it at some point in the future. The reboot itself will be a bit different, mostly in terms that I will be using a CYOA as the basis for it, and that it will follow a bit of a different plotline. For those interested, the CYOA I'm using is called Built In The Heavens, it's rather interesting, if nothing else.

Still, once more, I'm sorry for this.


	18. Update

Hello to all my readers and those eagerly awaiting the reboot of this story!

I am proud to announce that the wait is now over! The reboot has been published and now merely waits to be read, the first chapter is there for all to see. And I hope you enjoy the work, as it current stands at over ten thousand words long.

Enjoy!


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